“I really don’t know. What do you think?”
“I think they are the worst kind of animals. They have no respect for life. They take a man’s dog and remove his voice box, probably because his barking irritated them. I wonder what other things he had to endure at their hands.”
“What do you plan to do with Trueno?” I asked.
“My daughter is soft-hearted and has always loved him. She will take good care of him. It is hard. He knows he has a job to do, but he is too afraid to do it. If a human lost his voice, he could either rationalize his loss and accept it, or be sent to a hospital. But for a dog, it must be much harder. They cannot think and rationalize. Therefore, it must be very hard for him.” He paused for a moment, and then looked at me. “If those aliens would do this to a dog, what do they do to humans?”
As the evening turned to night, Manolo and I said goodbye to Angel, who invited us to return for dinner the next night. Over the next few years, I have continued to visit Angel and his family. Trueno died in 2010 at the age of fourteen. He is buried on the property and remains a reminder of the fateful encounter.
When I am at home in Montana, Trueno often comes to mind. Good ranch dogs are highly valued here. It is rare to see a rancher without a dog. Whereas there have been several accounts of cattle mutilations in the state, I have yet to hear of a UFO abduction of a dog, although I have heard of attempted abductions on rare occasions. After hearing Trueno’s story, I wonder if there is a race of aliens who conduct experiments on Earth’s animals and we just do not hear about it.
Chapter 32
An Astronaut Named Pakal
In 1776 Fray Ramon de Ordonez y Aguiar began writing A History of the Creation of Heaven and Earth. In the book, the padre attempted to explain the existence of the ancient Maya city Palenque, suggesting that a race of people appeared out of the Atlantic, guided by a distinguished leader named Votan.
Another account reported that Votan traveled from a distant planet called Valum Chivum to Earth and built a tower. Beneath that tower was a place that allowed him to travel back and forth between his planet and Earth.
Although not the first white men to see Palenque, Stephens and Catherwood are credited with establishing the most detailed and accurate survey during their twenty-eight-day stay. They left reluctantly, promising to return. They did not know that beneath the Temple of Inscriptions lay King Pakal. It was not until the summer of 1952 when Alberto Ruz, director of research at Palenque for Mexico’s Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia (INAH), discovered Lord Pakal’s tomb.
In 1968, Erich von Däniken published Chariots of the Gods. In the book, he suggested that Pakal, who reigned sixty-eight years over the ancient city, was an astronaut. Reproducing a drawing of the sarcophagus lid, he compared Pakal’s pose to that of Project Mercury astronauts in the 1960s, interpreting drawings underneath him as rockets and offering it as evidence of an extraterrestrial influence on the ancient Maya city.
As I walked the site, I met a vendor who took pleasure in repeating von Däniken’s interpretation of Pakal’s sarcophagus to unsuspecting tourists. As he approached me. I questioned him about the veracity of his story and if he really believed that Lord Pakal was an astronaut. In this chapter, you will read his response.
On my second day in Palenque, I met Manolo for breakfast at 6 a.m. I contracted him on a day-to-day basis, as I had made no previous arrangements for a driver or a guide. After a hearty breakfast of eggs, potatoes, and bacon, Manolo offered to show me around Palenque town before making our way to the ancient city. Palenque was a hot, humid, one-purpose town. Its days as a sleepy little village described by Stephens were far behind. A string of restaurants, hotels, and camping spots on and around Avenida Juarez, the main thoroughfare, and along La Canada, a popular tourist destination west of downtown, served a variety of travelers visiting the ruins at Palenque.
After the tour, we arrived at the Palenque ruins a few minutes before the site opened. Unlike Stephens’s introduction to the site, visitors were exposed to a chaotic environment. There were vendors of beverages, fruit, and souvenirs. Buses and minivans created a major traffic jam. Parking was limited and many tourists ended up parking a mile away and walking to the entrance. Maya men dressed in white cotton shirts that contrasted with their dark skin waited for the travelers, offering tours in a dozen different languages. Women and children sat with coolers along the sides of the parking lot, calling out “Agua, Fresca, Coca, Squirt.” A Lacandon Indian in his traditional dress hawked bow and arrow souvenirs, decorated with the iridescent feathers of the rapidly disappearing green parrot.
It was 8:30 a.m. and the heat was already oppressive. Manolo and I entered the UNESCO World Heritage site, passing through a hundred yards of ancient forest before arriving at a clearing. The city was perched on the first rise of the Tumbala Mountains. The high canopy jungle was as awe-inspiring as the ruins themselves, but there was a tranquility that was even more powerful. The multi-tiered tombs of King Pakal and his mother, the Red Queen, rise steep and white amid all the green. A long palace had at its center a tall tower for astronomical observations. In the distance, I saw a tree-smothered hill, a temple that had yet to be cleared of trees and brush. Backed by mountains and surrounded by thick forest, the limestone buildings gleamed as the first rays of the morning sun fell upon the site. I watched the mist wrap around the pyramids and rise. Howler monkeys screamed, poisonous snakes skirted into the underbrush, and leafcutter ants made wide trails through the dense forest. I saw fire ants throughout the site. Black scorpions sunned themselves on the pyramid; spiders as big as a hand dropped from trees onto unsuspecting visitors.
Although 500 buildings in Palenque have been identified, more than eighty percent of the city remained covered by rainforest. As I wandered the grounds, I often found a place to sit and admire the exquisite architecture, and enjoy the uniqueness and isolation of the place despite the crowds. This site had it all. Steep pyramids, ruined palaces, temples, and residential areas that still retained some of their original paint peeked out from among the moss. As I sat under a tree and watched the visitors, the same Maya vendor I had met the day before approached me. He showed me a leather painting of Pakal’s sarcophagus and explained in English that Pakal was actually an astronaut. “Pakal was able to travel back and forth from the Earth to other planets,” he said. “The old ones come here to honor him.” He held up the leather painting again and began to explain to me the spaceship where Pakal sat. It was a regurgitation of von Däniken’s theory.
“Who are the old ones?” I asked.
He pointed to the sky again. “The Sky Gods. The men from the sky.”
“Are you saying that Sky People visit Palenque?”
“Sí.”
“Have you seen them?”
“Sí. Two times.” He pointed at the sky and made a sweeping motion with his arm, illustrating the movement of the UFO across the sky. “My friend, he saw them land one night. He was a night security guard. But he no longer works as a guard. He scared (sic).”
“Did he tell you why he was afraid?”
“Spirits of the old ones come to Palenque. Most Maya would never spend the night here. But he was Mexican, and he ignored the warnings about the spirits. He saw them. They came from the sky and landed in the plaza. They entered the Pyramid of Inscriptions and disappeared. He ran away and never come back.”
“Did he describe them to you?”
“They glowed. They were white. Tall and white. Spirits.”
“Did he describe the spacecraft?” He appeared puzzled. “Did he describe the UFO?” I repeated.
“Sí. It was round and looked like a hat. A flat hat. It was silver. It smelled awful. Like hell smells. He tasted metal. It made him sick. His head hurt and he got dizzy.”
“Do you think your friend would talk to me?” I asked.
“He moved to Cancun. I don’t have an address. But he told me that the Sky Men have magic. They can appear and disappear in front of
your eyes. He was worried that their magic was evil. He said they could be sent by the Devil as a warning.”
“A warning?”
“Yes. To tell him he should leave Palenque.” The young man stood. “Sorry, Señora. I must get back to my post. The tourists, they come.” I watched as a tour group of Polish tourists approached the vendor area.
“Thank you for talking to me,” I said. Before leaving Palenque that day, I saw him again. I overheard him talking to tourists about Pakal, the astronaut. There was no question that entrepreneurship was alive and well at Palenque even if it meant exploiting the culture.
As I continued my exploration of the site with Manolo, it was not difficult to wonder why and how this great city was built. The Hopi said that in old days there was a red city to the south inhabited by people with all the great knowledge. Perhaps that great city was Palenque; archaeologists reported that the city was once painted red. On the other hand there are those who say that Palenque was built to hold all the great knowledge of the world and was to be a place of study not inhabited by people. Once completed, however, the builders violated their trust and occupied the city.
The more time I spend at Palenque, the more I believe that this city holds great knowledge, but the contemporary world does not know how to access it. It is a mystical, magical place and arguably the most spiritual of all the ancient Maya cities in Mexico. When Stephens left Palenque, he promised to return but never did. When I left Palenque, I knew I would return again and again. Unlike Stephens and Catherwood, I kept my promise.
Chapter 33
The Secrets of Palenque
People who have been abducted by UFOs are usually called “abductees” or “experiencers.” Due to a lack of physical evidence, the majority of scientists and mental health professionals dismiss the phenomenon as fantasy-proneness, false memory syndrome, sleep paralysis, psychopathology, and a variety of environmental factors. Dr. John E. Mack, a respected Harvard University psychiatrist, devoted a substantial amount of time to investigating such cases. He found that, in the most compelling cases, his patients suffered from post-traumatic stress syndrome. As he noted, this would imply that his patients genuinely believed that they remembered their abductions.
In this chapter you will read stories about abduction from villagers who lived near Palenque town.
One of my favorite places to stay in Palenque is the Chan-Kah Resort Village. Located between the town of Palenque and the ruins, it’s a grouping of casitas, or small houses, surrounded by a tropical forest. Staying there allowed me to get up early and arrive at the site ahead of the crowds who invaded the ancient city by the busload by 10 a.m.
On my third visit to Palenque, I was unable to locate Manolo, so I hired a guide named Pax. A full-blood Maya, Pax was a small, wiry man, who spoke near-perfect English as he ushered me around the site. His back was slightly hunched and he walked with a definite limp. He told me he had been working at the Palenque ruins for almost forty years and that it was getting more difficult to obtain clients because of his age. As we slowly walked the grounds, I asked him about Pakal, the ancient king, who gained fame as an ancient astronaut. He laughed and asked me if I believed in the ancient astronaut theory. I was surprised at how knowledgeable he was about the theory and the works of Erich von Däniken.
“He was just a white man who came up with a way to make money,” he said. “For some reason, the white man always wants answers that suit their beliefs. If von Däniken accepted the fact that the Maya built the cities unaided by extraterrestrials, then that would mean our civilization was more advanced than the white man. That would never do for a race who believe they are superior. So he provided an answer that was acceptable to the world of the white man. People grasp onto things that make them feel they are superior.”
“Do the Maya ever question who built the cities?” I asked.
“We do not have to; we know our ancestors built the cities. We are their direct descendants. We know where we come from and where we are going,” he replied, offering no further explanation.
On my last trip to Palenque in 2010, I checked into the Chan-Kah Resort and asked the hotel clerk if he knew the guide at the park named Pax. He denied any knowledge of him, but, approximately two hours later, Pax appeared at my room. We embraced as old friends. We walked to the dining room and ordered soft drinks. I explained to him that I was back in Palenque for two weeks and wanted to spend some time exploring the non-excavated buildings at Palenque. Although retired from guide service, Pax told me he could arrange for me to visit several non-excavated sites. I agreed to give him one day to make the arrangements.
The next day, I met Pax at the ancient site. “Are you still interested in ancient astronauts, Doctora?” he asked as he led me through the dense jungle. I watched as he hacked our way through the jungle forest with a machete. Occasionally he stopped and caught his breath.
“I’m still collecting stories when someone has a story to tell,” I said.
“I have some friends who have stories to tell. I talked to them yesterday. They will talk to you. For those who do not speak English, I can translate.”
“Thanks, Pax. I would really like to hear the stories. I’ve heard that there are regular sightings of UFOs at Palenque.”
“True. Many come to the Temple of Inscriptions where King Pakal was buried. Mostly balls of light go back and forth as though guarding or protecting the entrance. Mostly you see them about the time the forest turns black after the sun goes down”.
Later that evening, I drove to Pax’s house. He introduced me to his wife, three daughters, and extended family, made up of a sister, mother-in-law, mother, and several female children ranging in age from three to fourteen; all were members of his household. “I’m surrounded by women,” Pax said, as he and his daughters helped me unload the back of the vehicle. I brought with me a case of Coca-Cola, a bag of candy for the children, cigarettes, and several pizzas from the Pizzaria Palenque. The women quickly set about serving the food and drinks, leaving the cigarettes for Pax. As the food was served, I sat with Pax’s sister along the back wall of the house, while the men from the neighborhood, whom he had invited, congregated around a large wooden table set up beneath a huge mahogany tree. After the pizza was eaten and the men were smoking cigarettes, Pax invited me to join the group and hear their stories.
“I have a story to tell,” the youngest of the group began. He stood up from the table and picked up another Coca-Cola. He was a handsome man. If I had not known better, I would have thought from his profile that he was Pakal, whose image could be seen throughout the monuments in the ancient city. His countenance was identical to the king of the ancient city.
“I would be honored to hear your story,” I said.
“My name is Mario. I had an encounter with four aliens about ten years ago. I was fourteen then, but I still remember it. I was on my way to see my sweetheart, who is now my wife.” I saw him look toward the house and I noticed several women milling around the door. He caught his wife’s attention and pointed her out to me. She looked at me and smiled.
“Where were you when you saw the aliens?” I asked.
“I was on my way to see Lucinda. She lived about four miles from me in another village. I was walking. It was a black, dark night. Occasionally the moon would come out from the clouds and cast a faint light on the jungle. I was nervous. A jaguar had been seen a few days back. I repeatedly shined my flashlight around the road and the forest to check for danger, but suddenly the light went out. I shook the flashlight, trying to get it to come to life. About the same time a bright light appeared over the forest and moved directly over the road. It stopped in front of me. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run, but I was paralyzed, unable to move.” He lit a cigarette. All eyes around the table were on him.
“Are you telling me the spacecraft landed?” I asked.
“Yes. I saw steps descend from the bottom of a strange, round machine and four men came out of it. As they got closer,
their silver suits glistened in the light. I had never seen such dress. One carried some kind of instrument and when he pointed it at me, I felt sick.”
“What do you mean, you felt sick?”
“It was as though lightning had struck me. I felt needles all over my body. I felt I was burning alive. Then the pain stopped and I was sick. Stomach ache. I threw up. I remember that.”
“What else do you recall?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Possibly I passed out. The next thing I remember is waking up inside their craft, but I could not focus my eyes. The light was too bright. There was a cold dampness to the room. I was lying on my stomach on a hard surface and when I tried to move, I realized I was strapped down. My back was in terrible pain. I had never had back pain. Panic set in, but before I had a chance to think of a way to escape, I woke outside my Papa’s place. Off in the distance, I saw a bright light against the black sky. One moment it was there. One moment it was gone. I decided I must be dreaming and put it out of my mind until I met Tohil, who told me what happened to him.” He put his hand on the shoulder of his friend, who sat beside him.
“Have you had any further encounters?” I asked.
“None. One was enough.” I heard the men chuckle in the background. I looked at them. They were not laughing at Mario so much as reacting to the fear of the unknown. I looked at his friend, Tohil, who until then had been silent.
“My friend is shy, Señora. It is difficult for him to tell his story.”
“I understand that, Tohil. You do not have to tell me.” I said.
“No, Señora. I do want to tell. I just don’t speak English as good as Mario. I hope you will understand me,” Tohil said. “It happened on the same road, but I was with my friend Lorenzo.”
“Were you taken onboard their craft?” I asked.
“Sí. There were four small men who take [sic] us. We fought but we were no match for them. I think they have some way of making you helpless. They took us on their ship and put us in a room with strangers.”
Sky People Page 22