Sky People (15 page)

Many of the figures on these
stelae
were full-length and were holding double-sided scepters. On one end was a carving of Chaac, the Maya god of water, while at the other end was the head of a great cosmic serpent. I was in awe of each one. I examined each stela carving by carving and photographed them from every angle.

On all sides, I was surrounded by unrestored, jungle-covered mounds of giant jumbled blocks that once made up this ancient city. Huge dome-like stone altars, many with grotesque figures
but beautifully and expertly carved, stood as testament to the greatness of this isolated city. Zoomorphs depicting both real and mythical creatures of importance to the Maya, were strewn about the site.

Perhaps, as Hugo said, the most striking feature of Quiriguá was that none of the stone sculptures on the main plaza were carved at the quarry. Each stela was carried to the site and erected in place before the carving began. The largest one stood thirty-five feet tall, five feet wide, and four feet thick, and weighed sixty tons.

“Do you think aliens had a hand in moving these
stelae
to their current positions as Hugo suggested?” I asked Mateo.

“It took an extraordinary people with extraordinary powers and equipment to move sixty-ton
stelae
to this site,” Mateo replied.

“So, are you saying you agree with Hugo?”

“Don’t you find it interesting that most of the rulers were part of the Sky Dynasty?” he asked.

“I find it interesting that you are answering my questions with a question,” I responded.

“I believe the ancients were more than Sky Gods with extraordinary powers. I believe they were star travelers from another planet. Just think about their names. Cauac Sky was also known as
K’ak’ Tiliw Chan Yoat
or Fire Burning Sky Lightning God. After Cauac, there was Sky Xul, next came Sky Imx Dog, Scroll Sky, and Jade Sky.”

“I have thought about that,” I responded, “but I am not sure that makes them aliens.”

“Sky was an important name to the Maya. A child named ‘Sky’ was destined to be a messenger between the Universe and Earth. It is the same today. The name is more than just a word.”

“It is the same in many indigenous cultures. A name is not just a name but has a special significance. It can determine destinies,” I replied.

“Many elders told that in the beginning, the Maya came from the stars. They believed that the Universe originated with Pleiades, but they never said we were from Pleiades like some writers claim.”

“There are some indigenous people who believe they came from Pleiades,” I replied. “Of course, they didn’t call it Pleiades. That was a title tacked on by the Greeks, I believe, but they always pointed to the sky in that direction. I never gave it much thought until recently when I read that modern-day scientists using the Hubble Telescope discovered that there is a place where stars are born in a great spiral that originates at the site of Pleiades. At the outside of the spiral there is nothing but complete empty space.”

“I believe the elders spoke the truth,” Mateo said. “We are from the stars. No one knows how the ancient Maya achieved such astronomical precision or insights; they didn’t have any astronomical observatories. They didn’t have any Hubble telescopes, orbiting in space, and as of today no one has found any remnants of sextants or quadrants. Did they just lie on their backs and watch the stars and planets revolve?” Mateo asked as he stretched out on a step and looked at the sky. “I don’t think so,” he said, answering his own question. “I believe that the Sky People came to this planet and brought their knowledge with them and the Maya of today are the descendants of those space travelers.”

“Why did they not pass along their knowledge to their children?” I asked.

“In many societies, only the leaders held the knowledge. Something must have happened to the leaders. Perhaps they died from a disease, incest, or whatever. Perhaps they went home and left only a few people behind with plans to return, but something happened, and they were unable to make the return voyage. The knowledge that was reserved for this select group was lost when they were gone.”

“Interesting premise,” I replied.

“Venus and the Moon were major signposts for Quiriguá,” Mateo continued. I watched him get up and walk to one of the stela. He pointed out that it referred to movements of Venus, along with a time indicating an eclipse. “The rotation of the Moon, stars, and planets were [sic] carefully noted as you can see from these carvings. Cauac Sky claimed a close association
with Venus. The elders said that on the day of Cauac’s death, Venus was barely seen on the western horizon at sunset. On Stela D, where Venus is mentioned as the companion of Cauac Sky, there was an image identified as a Venus Sun deity. On the altar L, the ruler wore a star sign in his headdress.”

“Does it offend you that writers such as Erich von Däniken promote the idea that an alien race came to Earth and built these great cities?” I asked.

“It is definitely exploitation, but the white man has been exploiting our knowledge for centuries. They do the same to the Amerindians in the USA. He never asked us what we thought about his theories. You see, Doctora, I believe the Sky People and the Maya are the same. We are descendants of the space travelers who came to Earth and built these great cities. I believe my ancestors came here from another planet. I think they brought with them great scientific and engineering knowledge. Once here, they decided to stay.”

“Isn’t that in essence what von Däniken claims?

“Not at all. His work is the best example of ethnocentrism practiced today. He believes some highly intellectual race came to Earth and forced the ignorant, savage Maya to build the cities. He does not recognize that the highly intellectual race is our ancestors. We are the same. In his arrogance he decided that Space Gods built the cities and then left. The Maya were no more than their slaves. Of course, if he did admit that the Maya were the same as the Space Gods, and we are their descendants, then he might have to admit that the white man was not superior. But the Maya know the truth. Our connections will always be directed toward the sky because the DNA of the Sky Gods are the blood of the Maya,” he said. “Our language is the language of the Sky People. Someday that will be proven. Until then, we still own the mysteries of the Universe and, whether it is von Däniken or anyone else, those mysteries are not for sale. We keep them to ourselves and pass them on to one generation after another, but we do not share. You see, the real knowledge is too dangerous to share. Maybe someday, but probably not in our lifetime, it will be known. The general public is not ready for it.”

“When you think of the fame von Däniken has achieved with his ancient astronaut theory, does it make you angry? Does it make you want to speak out against him?”

“No. As you know, we believe that what goes around comes around. He has made millions from his books on the backs of the indigenous people of Mesoamerica and South America. But the people are still poor. We believe that someday, the Great Gods of the Universe will set that straight.”

“You mentioned that the Maya still own the mysteries of the universe, but they are too dangerous to reveal. What do you mean by that?”

“People today live in their own world. Even though they profess to believe that alien life exists, if and when they discover that it does, they will not react calmly. First there will be curiosity, then fear, and then aggression. We always try to destroy what we do not understand.”

“I have been told that before,” I said. “But do you believe that different groups of aliens settled different parts of Earth?” I asked.

“Yes, but the elders never speak of that. I do believe that most of the indigenous people of the Earth, whether they are in the Americas or Australia or some remote Pacific Island, came from the stars. Our belief system and worldview is so different than the rest of the world and yet in many ways we are all connected. We share many of the same beliefs. I cannot speak for the non-indigenous. We have no connection with them.”

I listened carefully to Mateo. He was not only knowledgeable about the history of this site, but he knew the stories of the elders, which brought far more understanding than I would have observed on my own. In his lifetime, Mateo had been a teacher, a cultural specialist, and a headmaster of a school. Lately he had taken up the role of professional guide/driver for a “select group of travelers” who, according to him must be “interesting, amiable, curious, and open-minded.”

Sitting there at Quiriguá and listening to Mateo, I found it easy to summon visions of shaman and Maya leaders using
their multifaceted calendar like a time machine, wandering at will through the distant past and future. It was understandable why writers attached space travel to the abilities of the ancient Maya, and for a moment you can imagine with them.

Q
uiriguá is a unique site. It is not to be missed whether you are following in the footsteps of Stephens and Catherwood, or just a UFO adventurer looking for answers. You will not be disappointed. If you happen to meet Mateo, he will definitely make you a believer that the Sky Gods were travelers from another world who came to Earth, liked what they saw, remained here, and became known as the Maya
.

B
lue-skinned aliens have been reported throughout history. In the deep cavern systems beneath the Ozarks, seven-foot blue-skinned men have been encountered. Some sources tell of encounters with this blue-skinned race in the Southern states. The Cherokee Indians told stories of blue-skinned men with large eyes who lived underground and only came to the surface at night. The Hopi Indians also spoke of a race of blue-skinned Star Warriors. While following in the footsteps of Stephens and Catherwood, I heard a number of accounts about blue-skinned people from the sky. In this chapter, you will read of an account of a man who saw the blue-skinned men
.

“I have heard many stories of alien abductions over the years, but the most interesting was a story told to me by a man in a village a few miles from here,” Mateo said as we left Quiriguá. “It happened to him when he was a boy, but he tells it with such detail, there is no question in my mind that he experienced this event. We will drive by his place. We’ll stop and see if he is willing to share his story. He is a traditional elder and not accustomed to visits from a
gringa
, so let me talk with him first.”

“I’m certainly lucky you are my driver and guide,” I replied.

“When you wrote me that you wanted to follow in the steps of Stephens and Catherwood, I was really excited. I have studied their journey and read their works many times. But when you said you were a collector of stories about UFOs, you were a person after my own heart. I am always talking to people about UFOs. And as you know, I have had my own experience, so I
share your interest. Hopefully, I will be able to help you a lot in this area.” We slowed as we entered the small village. “His house is on the right. He is called Wak Chan. He says he was named in honor of a legendary Maya warrior who successfully protected his people in many wars with a neighboring city, but the government has yet to find such cities. He speaks only Mayan, so I will translate.”

“Does he live alone?”

“He lives alone now that his wife has passed, but most everyone in the community is related to him. He is a very wise man and is highly respected in this region. They say he has the power to heal with his hands. You will feel his power just by being in his presence.” Mateo pulled the car alongside a traditional one-room hut, about the size of a typical bathroom in the USA. His house set back from the road only a few feet. A large, vacant field separated him from another small hut to the west. It was the last residence on the road. I sat in the car and watched a group of children playing in the street. Several dogs got up and walked toward the van. One ventured forth and stood on his hind legs and looked in the window. Mateo returned, pushed him away, and opened the door for me. When I reached down to pet the dog, Mateo warned me away. “He probably has fleas and God knows what else,” he cautioned. “Wak Chan will see you, but he is asking for tobacco.”

“I have some packets of green tobacco in my travel bag in the back of the van.” Mateo walked to the back and opened the double doors. I was aware that the Maya used the green tobacco as snuff like American baseball players. Because green tobacco is more powerful, it maximizes the absorption of nicotine into the blood stream. The modern Maya use tobacco for a number of ailments. It is also believed to provide personal magical protection. I pulled out a packet of green tobacco, handed it to Mateo, and followed him into the gated front yard of Wak Chan.

Mateo guided me to the back of the house, where the elder sat on a beautiful, hand-carved mahogany bench. He was a small man. A straw cowboy hat with a silver concho hat band covered his head but wisps of white hair fell across his ears and made
his golden-brown skin appear darker. He kept his eyes averted as I was introduced to him. On closer scrutiny, I realized his eyes were sensitive to the light; one was clouded, perhaps the result of cataracts. “My son, Mateo, tells me you want to hear my story about the star visitors,” he began. Mateo translated. “It has been several years since I have told this story, but I remember it as if it were yesterday.”

“Is he your father?” I asked Mateo.

“No. My father was his boyhood friend. It is traditional. Children in the villages are everyone’s child. So I have many fathers and grandfathers,” Mateo explained.

“This has been my home since the day I was born,” Wak Chan began. “At one time that field had rich soil. It was planted with corn and beans several times each year and provided us with much bounty,” he said as he pointed to vacant lot beside his house. “But it is dead now. Nothing has grown there for years—seventy-two years to be exact. My father never knew what happened to that field and I never told him.” He paused and waited for Mateo to translate before he continued. “One night, shortly before the sun appeared in the sky, my little brother and I woke up to a thunderous sound. We walked outside to take a look and we saw a dish-shaped object descend to the ground in that field. I saw it throw up dust and crush our beautiful corn field. We had worked so hard to grow the corn. We were too afraid to wake our father. He was a short-tempered man and he drank too much. We feared he might beat us for waking him.” He paused again, opened the package of tobacco, took out a pinch, and placed it inside his cheek.