Sky People (32 page)

J
ohn L. Stephens heard reports of Coba in 1841, but it was so distant from any known road or village that he decided the difficulty of getting there was too daunting. I made the trip, which is about 27 miles northwest of Tulum, in less than an hour. Archaeological evidence indicates that Coba was first settled around 100
BCE
and abandoned around 1500
CE
.

The site is about thirty square miles in size and swathed in jungle. There is a system of approximately forty-five ceremonial roads, known as
sacbe
in Mayan, radiating out from the main temples. It is believed that at one time 75,000 people lived in Coba. Although it is in a poor state of preservation, it is notable because the site contains the tallest pyramid, Nohoc Mu, on the Yucatan Peninsula
.

The city is located near four natural lakes. The name
, Coba,
translated from the Mayan means “water stirred (or ruffled) by the wind.” There were claims that Coba was a hot spot for UFO sightings
.

This chapter describes an event witnessed by one of the residents of a nearby village
.

I arrived at Coba just as the site was opening. I wanted not only to avoid the crowds, but to arrive in time to see some wildlife. Because of its jungle setting, a variety of wildlife including birds, howler monkeys, and butterflies call Coba home. While my driver paid the entrance fee, I covered my arms and face with bug repellent. Mosquitoes were everywhere. I watched a group of fluorescent blue morpho butterflies fly from flower to flower, and a mother hummingbird feed her baby in a nest on a
limb above my head. Air flowers grew on trees and, at one point, my driver, Juan Manuel, pointed out that an especially pungent white flower was used by the Maya to make alcoholic beverages.

“Señora, there is a taxi driver who has a strange story about UFOs,” Juan Manuel said. I hired Juan for the day, upon the recommendation of the hotel owner in Tulum. During the trip, I told him that I was collecting stories about UFOs. “I heard about his encounter with a UFO on my last trip to Coba. I spoke with his father, who operates the t-shirt kiosk over there,” he said, pointing to the makeshift shack that displayed hundreds of t-shirts. “His son drives one of the taxis inside the park. We can look for him at the taxi station. I think you might like to hear his story.” We walked inside the site and approached the transportation stand. Juan indicated that he saw the taxi driver in question. I waited as he approached the young man, who sat perched on a bicycle with a rickshaw-type contraption in front. This “taxi” was used by tourists to take them to the Nohoc Mu pyramid, which was about a mile away.

The young taxi driver, who identified himself as Cacoch, spoke in the local Mayan dialect with a smattering of English and Spanish. I hired a second taxi for Juan to travel with us and serve as a translator. Juan, who described himself as a Yucatec Maya, spoke Spanish, English, and the local Mayan dialect.

“He wants to know how many stories you have collected about UFOs,” Juan said as we pulled away from the taxi stand.

“Tell him I have collected hundreds and that I only collect stories from indigena.” Juan Manuel translated.

“I tell you a story like no other. You can use it if you ever want to write it,” Cacoch said.

“I explained to him that you are a writer, Señora. He is proud you are interested in his story.”

“Did it happen here at the Coba site?”

“It happened one evening a few months ago. It was almost dark. I was going home for the night. Just as I left the entrance and started my walk home—I took the road by the lake—I saw a UFO come out of the clouds. It stopped over the lake and just stayed there.” He stopped his bicycle and Juan translated.

“Can you describe the UFO?”

“Sí
. It was round and had a hump and another hump on the top. It had many lights running underneath. It made no noise.” From his description, Juan suggested that there were two domes, one larger than the other on the top of the craft.

“How big was it?” I asked.

“It was big. I had never seen anything so big.”

“How long did it hover over the lake?”

“Three, maybe five minutes. But while it was there, a beam came out. It moved over the lake like it was searching. I hid in the reeds by the bank. I was afraid they would see me. Suddenly the beam fell on an unsuspecting crocodile. It was resting near the bank. The beam lifted the crocodile upward and took it on board the UFO.”

“Took it?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”

“They lifted the crocodile up to their ship. It struggled but it did no good. They took it. I heard they sometimes took humans. I did not know they took crocodiles.”

“You are the first person to tell me about a UFO taking a crocodile,” I said.

“But that is not the end of the story. Two days later, I was walking home again and the same thing happened at the same place. This time I was with my friend, Orlando, and he saw it, too. But before they took another, they dumped the body of the dead crocodile into the lake.”

“Are you telling me that the UFO dumped a dead crocodile into the lake?”

“They dumped it and took another. They must have killed the crocodile, and they no longer needed it. They dumped the dead one and took a live one. Have you ever heard of this?” he asked.

“Not a crocodile, but I have heard of them taking other animals.” I waited for Juan to translate. I saw Cacoch nod. “When they are found, the animals are dead and organs have been removed. Was there any evidence that they experimented on the crocodile?” I asked.

“I don’t know if they experiment,” he said. “I know the body was lifeless. I did not go near it. But it was dead. It was belly-up in the water. I did not want to touch it.” He stopped the bicycle again. “If they take humans, do they kill them, too? There are people who come up missing sometimes. Do you think that the UFOs take them, kill them, and dump their bodies into the lake?”

“If they do, I have heard no such stories,” I replied.

“I tell my wife and children to stay inside at night. I don’t think the lake is safe at night.” I waited for him to speak again, but he sat there looking up at Nohoc Mu. We had arrived at our destination.

“Have you had any other experiences or encounters with UFOs?” I asked.

“Many nights, UFOs fly over Coba. They seem to like the lake. My friend Muwan says that they sometimes go inside the lake and stay there. He thinks they live in the lake.” He paused a moment and smiled. “It’s hard to believe, but then, who would think that they would steal a crocodile?”

T
hough I have heard no other accounts of crocodile mutilation, there is no question that something is going on. Since I began collecting stories from indigenous people about their encounters, I have heard stories of a buffalo mutilation, a dog abduction, and cow and horse mutilations. I was not surprised to learn that an alien race was also interested in crocodiles
.

F
or centuries, Merida was the stronghold of Spanish colonialism in the land of the Maya. Dubbed “the White City” because of its white houses and the white clothes worn by its residents, Merida was once the Maya city T’Ho. Renamed by the conquistadors after Merida, Spain, the city takes pride in its multi-cultural population
.

Stephens and Catherwood stayed in Merida for several days on both of their trips, but the explorers moved on after a few days of rest because the city was so far removed from the ancient sites
.

In this chapter you will meet two elders from Merida who recalled several UFO sightings over their lifetime. Both believed the alien visitors have a hidden agenda
.

I was sitting with my guide/interpreter, Julio, and my driver, Arturo, in the city plaza in Merida. The
Zocalo
was a historic center filled with stalls of food, jewelry, balloon salesmen, Panama hats, and t-shirts. My companions chatted with two elderly men in white pants and shirts, white hats, and sisal sandals. They talked in rapid-fire Spanish and Yucatec Mayan about women, debating which village had the most beautiful women, but I couldn’t make out much more than that. I was taking notes about the surroundings when the duo asked my guide what I was writing. He told them I was writing a book about them. They laughed uproariously. When he told them I was writing about UFOs, they laughed and another torrent of Spanish and Mayan was lost in translation.

“Julio, please ask them if they have ever seen a UFO.” I waited for him to translate.

“Do you know the town of Piste?” asked the elder who identified himself as Aldo.

“Yes. I know the town.”

“Have you heard of the Cenote Ik Kil?” Francisco asked.

“Yes. I know it very well.”

“We grew up in Piste. Francisco and I were born two days apart. We have always been like brothers,” Aldo began. “Back when we were boys, Chichén Itzá was our playground. We swam in Ik Kil before tourists even knew about the place.”

“There were no tourists, just rich people who came by once in a while,” Francisco interjected.

“And archaeologists,” said Aldo.

“In those days, you could drive up to the pyramid, park in front, and climb it. I loved those days.” Aldo stopped and looked at Francisco. They both seemed lost somewhere in nostalgia. “It was a good place then. There were few visitors in those days; today they are everywhere. They say it is progress and that it brings in money to the people, and I suppose it does, but it exploits our heritage and the real people.”

“When you use the term
real people
, do you mean the Maya people?” I asked.

“Sí,”
they both answered in unison. “But only the Maya who lived as the old ones lived,” Aldo clarified.

“Can you tell me about the UFO?”

“Sorry. Sometimes we get off the subject.” They both laughed and spoke rapidly again to my companions in a mixture of Spanish and Yucatec Mayan. I did not understand them.

“I think they come for something,” Aldo said.

“They come for water,” Francisco said. “The first time we saw them it was at the Cenote Ik Kil. We saw this large craft. It covered most of the sky. It just stood there as though suspended from rope in the sky. We were boys—no more than eight or nine. We were so frightened.”

“It was amazing. We had no idea what it was,” Aldo said.

“Anyway, we ran to the edge of the
cenote
to hide. The whole area was as light as day. It was difficult to find a hiding place. The lights, white and red were so bright. You couldn’t look at them,” Francisco said.

“As we watched, a smaller craft came out of the big ship and it went down into the
cenote
. We could see it taking water out of the
cenote,”
Aldo interjected.

“The lights from their craft lit up the
cenote
. It was a strange sight. We had never seen the
cenote
at night,” Francisco said.

“The bats went crazy,” Aldo added. “After they were loaded with water, they returned to the big UFO.”

“Then they made another trip and another,” Francisco said. “If I remember, they made five trips to get water.”

“I think they were after something besides water,” Aldo said. “I’m not sure what they are after, but it seems to me, that water was not their only mission.”

“Why do you believe that?” I asked.

“About three years later, we saw another event. It looked like the same craft. A smaller craft went into the
cenote
, but this time, a human character got out of the craft and picked up things around the
cenote
, like rocks and pieces of vegetation. I think they were trying to decide if they could live on this planet. They might be the new invaders,” Francisco suggested.

For a moment Aldo and Francisco discussed his theory.

“In order to believe that they are coming here for something, you have to believe they exist in the first place. Correct?” Francisco asked.

“Correct,” I answered.

“That is the hardest part about seeing these aliens,” Francisco continued. “It is not something we talk about, but I believe they are scouting our planet. I think they want another home and since they are superior to us, they think they can take over. It will be a repeat of the
conquistadores.”

“What do you mean?”

Francisco continued, “They will come and some people will embrace them. Others will fight, but it is not a fight that can be won. They will take over and humans will become nothing but slaves to them.”

“Why do you believe this?”

“It has been the same throughout history,” Aldo said. “The invaders find the weak and they take whatever they want—land, women, gold. It is always the same.”

“But there is one difference. Perhaps the aliens do not behave like humans.” Francisco said.

“You may be right, Francisco. Humans are deadly, but perhaps the aliens are not. They have never done anything that is aggressive or bad, but I still think there is some other reason that they come here,” Aldo said.

“It is strange. We have never discussed the UFOs before. It’s the first time that we’ve discussed these encounters with anyone.” Aldo stood. I knew the conversation was over. I watched as he looked over the single ladies sitting across from us on a bench. With a nod to Francisco, the two of them strolled over to the ladies.

T
he last time I caught sight of them, they had danced with every single woman in the
Zocalo
regardless of age, weight, or condition. Recognizing that they were two of Merida’s greatest treasures, I knew I would not soon forget the duo, who firmly believed that the aliens had an agenda
.

T
he number of persons reported missing every year in Mesoamerica is a closely guarded secret. Since 1980, at least 20,000 children worldwide have been reported missing each year. It is estimated that two million people go missing every year around the globe. Whereas fifty percent of those missing individuals are thought to be victims of crimes or purposeful disappearances such as runaways, the other fifty percent—or one million people—have baffled authorities because there is no explanation for these disappearances. Alien abduction may be one explanation for many of these disappearances; however, human abductions by aliens are officially regarded by governments throughout the world as hoaxes. Narrative evidence continues to mount as many more people have come forward with stories of abduction
.