Sky People (35 page)

“Where do you think the Star Men came from?”

“I think they live in heaven with Jesus. And if you believe in Jesus and you are faithful, he will answer your prayers.”

I
often think of Salvador and the power of prayer. He prayed faithfully every day believing that Jesus would heal him. In the end, it took the intervention of his “Star Angels” to do just that. I haven’t forgotten his last words: “I pray every day,” he said. “Prayer is power.”

F
ive decades ago, no one knew about Cancun. In 1969 a huge building project was launched and by 1974, an international airport and three luxury hotels had been built to draw tourists. Today, Cancun is one of the premier holiday destinations in North America
.

In this chapter, you will hear from an elder who tells how the “real” Sky People quit coming to the Yucatan with the advent of the tourist industry
.

I was at the Lodge at Uxmal, across the street from the ancient city by the same name, when my driver told me about an elder in a neighboring village who had encountered a UFO and that, if I were interested, he would take me to meet him. Auturo, who was born in the same village, had known this man all of his life and vouched for his honesty and sincerity. When we arrived at his home, I was greeted by his wife, children, and grandchildren. After I gave the children coloring books, crayons, and huckleberry jelly beans, they disappeared inside one of the huts.

Choc, the elder who had agreed to talk with me, came from the back of the house and welcomed us. I was immediately mesmerized by his smile. He held out his hand to me. His gentle, warm touch put me at ease. He offered us orange juice from his orchard while he arranged some wooden stools for us to sit. “When I was a boy they used to come here. They quit coming in the mid-seventies.”

“Do you have any idea why they stopped visiting the area?”

“The old ones say they disapproved of the tourists coming to the area. The Yucatan was the home of the Maya until the 1960s. The Mexicans left us alone. The government left us alone. The Men from the Stars considered the Yucatan their second home, but after the tourists came, the purity of the Yucatan was lost. The Sky People don’t like tourists.” I understood the changes he was addressing. The development of Cancun had made for drastic alterations throughout the Yucatan.

“Do you remember the days when the Sky People came to visit?” I asked.

“Sí.”

“Can you tell me about those days?”

“I remember this one time. It was a celebration. All of the old men from the village and nearby villages were present. We feasted on turkey, peppers, beans, and tortillas. There was so much food. When all of a sudden over the village, a sky machine appeared.”

“Can you describe it?” I asked.

“It was round and big. It covered the whole village. It turned a bright sunny day into a dark day. It shaded the sun. Blue sparks of light spit out from underneath. It was quite a sight for a boy like me. I had never seen lights before. It stayed that way for the longest time, and everyone just sat there staring upward at this object from the sky.”

“Was there any fear?”

“No. We knew about the Sky People. We were not afraid of them. The sky machine hung overhead for what seemed like a long time but it was probably only minutes. Then three Sky Men appeared. They walked directly to the elders and escorted them onboard the ship. After an hour or so the elders came out of the ship.”

“Can you describe the Sky Men?” I asked.

“They looked like us, except they were taller. We were a shorter version of them.”

“Did the elders tell you anything about their meeting?”

“Only that they talked about the future of the Earth, and how the population growth and greed would bring about its destruction.”

“Did they explain to you how this might occur?”

“They said diseases, no food, and wars would destroy the Earth as we know it.” He got up and motioned for me to follow him. I walked with him to a cement enclosure near the back of his property. Three hogs were asleep in the encircled pen. They stood on their hind legs at his approach as though seeking affection. He scratched the heads of each as they squealed softly showing their approval. “These are my girls,” he said. “They produce piglets. They feed me when I sell their babies. That way I make money for other things. They are my independence.” He paused and threw a bag of corn cobs into the pen.

“Several years ago, a spacecraft came. It hovered over my place. A strange space man, unlike those of long ago days, appeared in my yard and tried to steal one of my hogs. She was my prized mama. I fought him for her. When he released her, he ran underneath the craft and was sucked up. The craft immediately sped away, and I never saw it again.”

“You speak of a strange space man. Was he different from the Sky Men of your elders?”

“Sí. These space men were different. They were hostile. They were short and wore strange suits. They were skin-tight and bright and glossy. I wondered how they could live in such suits in the heat. I know I could not do it.”

“You said ‘they.’ Was there more than one alien?”

“Sí
. There was the one that tried to steal my hog and there was another one who stood and watched, and when I fought, the other one came forward and motioned through hand signals that the thief should give up and leave my hogs alone. They looked like identical twins. There was no difference in their height, weight, or appearance.”

“Could you tell anything about their faces?”

“They were blank. I saw no mouth or ears. Their heads were covered. They covered their eyes with strange, round, black goggles. My son said that they were probably glasses to help them see.”

“Did any other members of your family witness the attempted theft of your pig?” I asked.

“My wife. She was very afraid I would be killed. I remember her calling my name as I struggled to keep my hog. After they left, we had difficulty sleeping. The next morning, I had red spots and blisters on my hands and the right side of my face.”

“Did you see a doctor?”

“No. We used a salve my wife made, and it went away in a week. That alien made me sick. He was not from the Sky People of my grandfather’s day. My grandfather said the Sky People looked like us.”

“You spoke about a machine that came from the sky and the elders entered the machine to speak with the Sky Men. I have heard that the elders could travel in space. Can you tell me anything about that?” I asked.

“There is a place on each pyramid that is the portal to the stars. The elders would enter the portal to travel in space. The elders traveled to meet with the Sky People. That is how they knew so much about the universe.”

“Do they continue to do that today?” I asked.

Choc paused and finished his glass of orange juice. “When the tourists came, the Sky People chose to stay away. The portals were closed. We believe someday they will open again, but not until the tourists leave.”

“Do you believe that there will be a day when there are no tourists?”

“Oh
sí
. It is coming. The day will come when the world is too dangerous for travel, and people will stay home. Cancun will be replaced by jungle again.”

“Why will it become too dangerous to travel?”

“There will be diseases at first. People will be afraid to leave their homes. Food will become scarce because there will be no one to produce it. Then the wars will come.”

“What do you think will happen to the Maya when these events occur?”

“We will survive. We have always survived. We will just disappear into the jungles and wait until the Earth is reborn and the fifth world begins. It has been foretold by the wise men. It will happen. You should take heed.”

I
have often thought about Choc and his explanation for the lack of star visitors coming to the Yucatan. Perhaps he is right. Tourists are everywhere and on certain days it is almost impossible to enjoy the sites. Although it is good for the economy and has raised many of the local people out of poverty, it is impossible to visit the Yucatan without recognizing the price that has been paid. It is not hard to understand why the Sky People have deserted the Yucatan
.

K
iuic has been visited by archaeologists since at least 1841, when John Lloyd Stephens and Frederick Catherwood recorded the site for the
Incidents of Travel in Yucatan.
Some of the ruins Stephens recorded in his book still stood when I visited there in 2009, despite the fact that little restoration had taken place. Kiuic was not the easiest site to find. Located in the Bolonchen District of the Puuc region of Yucatan, the Helen Moyers Biocultural Reserve is a privately owned entity managed by Kaxil Kiuic, A.C. It consists of 4,000 acres of dry tropical forest and contains the ancient Maya center of Kiuic as well as the remains of the historic community of San Sebastian
.

At the time of our visit, my companions and I were unaware that Kiuic was a part of a privately owned preserve. Upon locating the entrance to the site, we found an unlocked gate and drove through it. We spent approximately two hours at the site and never saw any workers or other tourists. When we came upon a “No Trespassing” sign, my driver was convinced that the three of us would end up in a Mexican prison if discovered, and we left the site immediately. As we exited the gate, we encountered a group of young men on bicycles. We stopped and chatted with them. Our conversation inspired this chapter
.

“We are practicing for a cross-country race,” the head rider told us. He, along with four other bicyclists, was resting outside the gate as we exited the Kiuic site.

“Is this place open?” one of the bicyclists asked.

“The gate was unlocked and we drove inside,” my driver explained.

“The archaeologists are probably in Merida,” another rider said. “They go there on the weekends.”

“Are you guys a part of a bicycling tour group?” I asked.

“We are a team that hopes to represent Mexico in international competitions someday,” Rodrigo said. Then he pointed to his friends. “This is Pablo, the shortest of the group; David, the tallest; Jonathan, the girl-magnet; Emiliano, the youngest; and me, Rodrigo. I am the best of the group.” He smiled while the others laughed.

“How long have you been training?”

“Six months. We practice at night, on weekends, after work and school. We want to be the best,” Rodrigo said. “We want to represent Mexico.”

“Viva Mexico!” they yelled in unison.

“We have endured hurricanes, winds, rainstorms,
topes
(speed bumps), speeding cars, drug smugglers, military checkpoints, gun battles, union marches, protest demonstrations, and UFOs,” Rodrigo added.

“I am interested in UFO stories. Do you have a story?” I asked. After my guide explained my mission, Rodrigo, who was clearly the leader, looked at his four companions. Then he motioned toward the shade of a tall tree, and eight of us (the five bicyclists, my driver, my guide, and I) sat down. My driver retrieved eight bottles of ice water from the van, passed them around, and joined us, as the young man named Pablo began the story.

“It was a black night. High winds were making it difficult to ride our bikes. We saw lightning off in the distance as we raced for our village,” he said.

“We are all from the same village and we were about three kilometers (1.8 miles) from home,” Rodrigo interjected. “The rains came in waves across the highway. We saw bright lights ahead. We thought there was a wreck.”

“But the closer we got to the lights, the more blinding they became,” Pablo continued. “That’s when we realized that something was wrong.”

“I told my buddies to stay back while I investigated,” Rodrigo said.

“But he didn’t come back,” Pablo explained. “We got worried and decided to follow him.”

“How long did you wait?”

“Thirty minutes?” Pablo said. He looked at the others and they nodded. “We decided to look for him, but we still didn’t realize it was a UFO. As we approached the source of the lights, we recognized the outline of some sort of a craft. As we came closer the lights softened and turned to red. I told the others to stay behind me, away from the light. We called out to Rodrigo, but no response.” Pablo picked up a small rock at his feet and threw it into the field. “I must admit, I was afraid. I told the guys not to yell, because if aliens had Rodrigo, they might come after us. We looked around for any sign of life. We saw nothing. We looked around for other people, but there was no one on the road. We were alone.” He paused and took a long drink from the water bottle and stood.

“Did you go closer to the craft?” I asked.

“We decided to move off the highway and take shelter in a small tree-belt by the highway and wait,” Pablo continued. “It was about ten minutes when we saw the craft lift upward a few feet, and a light came from underneath, and suddenly a door opened from the bottom of the craft. A stairway descended. That’s when we saw them. There were eleven of them.”

“Eleven aliens?”

“No. Eleven humans,” said Pablo. “They all came out of the UFO. Rodrigo was the second to appear. I ran toward him and pulled him out of the light. But the others just stood there with nowhere to go. The UFO suddenly moved upward. Within seconds, it was gone. All around us was darkness. We had one flashlight. I shined it in the direction of the others. They wandered in a circle, obviously confused. Rodrigo babbled about something we did not understand.”

“At this point, what did you do?” I asked.

“We decided to stay there until someone from the village came for us. Andres gathered some wood and we built a fire so
if someone came along, they would see us and slow down. We herded all the people to the side of the road and made them sit down,” Pablo said.

“Did anyone come for you?” I asked.

“My father came looking for me. He loaded everyone into the back of his pickup and took us to the village. We told everyone what happened. Some of the women began praying. My father ordered the people to bring extra hammocks and he hung them in trees and put the strangers to bed. The next morning, when they woke, they did not know where they were or what happened to them. Rodrigo was fine,” Pablo said.