Ardy Sixkiller Clarke, author of Encounters With Star People, vowed as a
teenager to follow in the footsteps of two 19th-century explorers, John L.
Stephens and Frederick Catherwood, who brought the ancient Maya cities to the
world's attention. Dr. Clarke set out on a seven-year adventure (from 2003
through 2010) through Belize, Honduras, Guatemala, and Mexico, collecting
stories of encounters, sky gods, giants, little people and aliens among the
indigenous people. She drove more than 12,000 miles, visiting 89 archaeological
sites (Stephens and Catherwood visited only 44) and conducted nearly 100
The result is an enthralling series of unique,
original, true stories of encounters with space travelers, giants, little
people, and UFOs. Sky People: Untold Stories of Alien Encounters in MesoAmerica may very well
change the way you perceive and experience the world.
This excerpt comes from Chapter 4.
There is a legend that when the man/god Quetzalcoatl left Tula, he walked
to a mountain and entered it, and it closed behind him. There are various
accounts throughout the indigenous world of Star Men who meld into solid
structures including mountains. In Peru, there are stories of gods who were
able to walk through walls to enter another dimension.
In this chapter, you will meet a witness who reports that Star Men often
come from space and visit the ancient temples. They have the ability to walk
through the solid walls of the temples and disappear inside mountains.
Alexandro Jean was the manager
of the small, boutique hotel where I stayed in Belize City. He was a short,
stout man with a bucktooth smile and curly black hair that always appeared as
though he had been caught in a wind storm. He wore a silver concho belt over
his tight, black polyester pants, a cowboy hat, and a long-sleeved, starched
white shirt that appeared out of place in the humid weather.
“I hear that you like stories,”
Alexandro declared as I entered the small hotel lobby on my way to the
restaurant. I nodded and he motioned me to the desk. “I have a personal story I
can tell you about UFOs,” he said in a stage whisper as he glanced around the
room as though watching for eavesdroppers. “I work day and night at the desk,
but in the early morning hours, there is no one around. Perhaps if you stop by,
I can tell you my story.”
“How did you know I collect UFO
stories?” I asked.
“Nothing escapes me, Doctor. It’s
my business to know about our guests. Our security guard overheard you talking
to your driver. He was curious that you were interested in UFOs. We don’t meet
too many people with such interest, mostly white men who have no respect. He
told one of the housekeepers who was his wife, about what you were doing, and
she told my wife, and that is how it got back to me. Words have feet in a small
hotel. We like to know all about our guests. I live many lives behind this desk
and travel the world without ever leaving through the lives of my guests. Doctor,
your life makes me very curious.”
“Why are you so curious?” I
“A woman alone. Traveling
through Belize looking for UFOs. That is curious.”
“I’m not looking for UFOs,
although I must admit, I would be happy to see one,” I said. “I am collecting stories
about UFOs. I am retracing, as much as possible, the footsteps of Stephens and
Catherwood, and along the way, I collect stories from indigenous people about
their encounters with UFOs. That’s my story.”
“I see. Stephens and
Catherwood, eh? I know them. They are dead dudes. Why would you follow two dead
“It’s a teenage promise from a
long time ago,” I said, offering him more information than I had planned.
“I see. You underestimate
yourself, dear lady. You are very curious. Few men have tried to follow
Stephens and Catherwood. Occasionally I see someone looking for stories about
UFOs, but they do not possess the methods needed to get the local people to
talk. You, on the other hand, seem to be able to touch people’s hearts and
souls. I see how everybody talks to you from the child on the street, the housekeeper,
the waiter, the beggar. I’ve observed you. People are curious about you, too. If
you run out of people to talk to, come see me.” He paused and handed a letter
to a guest before continuing. “If you want a true story, from an indigenous man—me—I will tell you a true one that I
experienced when I was a young man.”
When Buddy dropped me off shortly
after midnight the next evening, I made my way to the front desk. Alexandro
Jean was sitting behind the counter watching a small TV. He stood when I
“I’ve stopped by to hear your
story,” I announced.
Alexandro smiled and showed me
to two chairs near a large window that faced the street. “Could I get you some
coffee, tea, or a soft drink?” he asked as I pulled out my notebook.
“No. I really don’t need
anything. I just want to hear your story.”
“You are all business, Doctor. So
I will keep to business.” He sat down, pulled a coffee table closer, and
propped up his feet. “I hope you do not mind,” he said, pointing to his feet. I
shook my head and he began.
“I will start at the beginning.
I did not always live in Belize City, but in a rural village about 60 miles
from here. I left for Belize City when I was about 20. My encounter occurred
the summer I was 18. There were four of us, my friends and me. We grew up
together. Albert was with me. He was my cousin. There was my best friend,
Javier, and his brother, Jean. There was an abandoned Maya city near our
village. It was small and the government never restored it. I think there have
been archaeologists working there the last couple of years, but when I was a
boy, it was deserted. We often left the village and went there with our
alcohol. We could get drunk and no one would stop us. Our mothers and
grandmothers did not like us to drink. If they caught us with alcohol, they
would beat us.” He paused and laughed about his remembrance.
“Are you telling me you were
drunk when you had your encounter?” I asked.
“No. I was not drunk. We went
there to drink, but we had not had anything to drink when we saw the space men.”
“Can you tell me exactly what
“The first thing I remember was
the smell. When we approached the site, there was a strange, unfamiliar odor. Jean
pointed it out immediately and we all agreed he was right. It was a strange
smell. Nothing familiar to us, and as we were discussing what it might be, we
came out of the tree canopy into the plaza. That’s when we saw the craft. It
was setting in the middle of the plaza.”
“Can you describe it?” I asked.
“It was a long, dull, dark
metallic craft. It looked like a tank and at first, we thought it was a tank,
but then we saw the space men. They were dressed in gray suits that matched the
craft. They were tall and thin and had light hair. They did not wear headgear
like modern astronauts. That’s what confused us at first. To tell you the
truth, my first thought was that they were Americans and we had stumbled upon
some secret operation by the American military. When you live in this part of
the world, we always hear rumors about American soldiers carrying out secret
missions. I don’t know how much is truth or fiction or a combination of the
two.” He paused when the phone rang and excused himself. I heard him call for
security, who appeared almost immediately. He directed him to take ice to the
lady who had rented the penthouse on the top floor.
“Sorry for the interruption,”
he said as he returned to the chair next to me. “We have guests who never
“You were saying that when you
first saw the space men, you thought they were U.S. military,” I said,
reminding him of his stopping-off point.
“Yes. Part of it was the color
of their hair and part was the uniforms. They wore very strange uniforms. They
were two-piece. The shirt was like a tunic that came down over the waistband of
the pants. The pants were tucked into boots. The strangest part about their
uniforms was that when they moved about, the colors changed to match their
environment. When they were close to their craft, the uniforms were dark gray
to match the craft. If they were near trees, their uniforms became green and blended
into the jungle. When they climbed the temple, they were the color of the
stone. My cousin, Albert, said it was a military secret, and they wore uniforms
to make them invisible to the enemy. We decided that only U.S. soldiers would
know how to do that, so we all agreed that this explanation sounded logical.”
Alexandro paused as two
inebriated men entered the hotel. They had their arms around each other to
steady themselves. When they saw us, they called out to Alexandro and offered
him a drink. Immediately, Alexandro moved to the desk and called security. When
a short, muscular man dressed in a navy blue uniform with an insignia on the
shoulder and a policeman-style hat appeared, the two doubled over in laughter,
steadied themselves, and saluted him. The security officer moved forward, took
their room key, and ushered them toward the hallway. “Jack will take care of them.
They’re harmless. They have been with us for two weeks. They are opening a hamburger
franchise here in Belize, and every night they go out and get drunk. And every
night, I call Jack and he puts them to bed.” I heard him give directions to
Jack in Kriol, a dialect that is spoken throughout the country, and then turn
to me again.
“So when did you decide that
the men you were observing at the ancient site were not from the USA?” I asked.
“The four of us remained hidden
and watched the scene unfolding before us. Alberto suggested we should leave
and go get the village men, but Javier thought we should stay and watch. Jean
agreed. I did, too, so we stayed. At first, they seemed to be checking their
craft. They walked around it, occasionally stopping and recording something in
a glowing tablet they carried. After a few minutes they walked toward the
temple, but they did not climb the stairs; they walked through the stairs. We
were all struck speechless. We could not believe what we had seen. We knew that
underneath the temple was a cave. The four of us had found the entrance when we
were boys, but we couldn’t walk through the stairs. They were solid stone, but
they walked through them like they were not there.” He paused momentarily, got
up, and returned with two bottles of Coca-Cola. Just as he started to sit down,
two men leaned against the large hotel window in front of where we were
sitting. He walked to the window and pounded on the glass. The unsuspecting men
jumped as though they had been shot out of a cannon. They turned and looked at
Alexandro, and let out a volley of curse words in English and Kriol before they
moved on. “Sorry, Doctor. That is the reason I must work all night. I must
protect the hotel from drunks. I sleep in the mornings and begin again at noon.”
“So tell me, what did you do
when the strange men disappeared inside the stairs?” I asked.
“We decided to go to our secret
entrance and sneak into the cave. We wanted to see what they were doing. We had
never told anyone about the cave and for some reason it felt like they were
invading our private property. Javier was particularly upset. There were
artifacts in the cave and he was afraid they would steal them. So we crept
toward the entrance, staying hidden by the foliage until we could conceal
ourselves behind some scattered remains of other buildings. That’s when they
reappeared. We heard them talking but their language was unfamiliar. It was not
English. We speak English like the Americans.”
“Did they have any of the
artifacts?” I asked.
“No, but it seemed to us that
they were looking for something.”
“How many men entered the
“There were four.”
“Were you closer to them at
“Yes. We could see their faces.
They looked normal except they had unusually high foreheads. I think it was
because they were going bald because their hair set back on their head and was
thin. We knew these men were not from the USA. They were foreigners. I think it
was Alberto who suggested they came from the stars. These were no ordinary
humans. As we were coming to that conclusion, they moved to the west. We
decided to follow. Behind the main plaza temple, there is a small mountain. It
was actually another temple but it was totally overgrown with trees and grass. We
watched as they walked through the mountain. We were totally shocked. At this
point, Javier decided he was going aboard the craft that was setting in the
plaza. He ran toward the craft. We followed. But just as we entered the edge of
the plaza, the strange men reappeared out of nowhere. Like a puff of smoke.”
“Do you mean they had the
ability to appear and disappear?”
“They must have. They just
“Did they see you?”
“At this point, yes.”
“Did they attempt to
communicate with you?”
“No. They disappeared again and
it was less than a minute when the craft moved upward and within seconds it was
gone. We watched it climb above the trees. It stopped briefly overhead as
though examining us, and then they were gone. Zip, zip, zip. Gone.” He made a
zigzag motion with his hand illustrating the craft’s movement.
“You said you felt as though
they were examining you? Were there windows or anything distinctive about the
“No windows. We saw no lights,
but it was the late afternoon. The sun was still bright. It was just a feeling.
They hovered above us. I assumed they were watching us.”
“Did you stay at the site for
your drinking party?”
“Jean said it was a sign. We
should give up drinking.”
“What kind of a sign?”
“A sign from God. He said they
could be angels.”
“Did you agree?”
“No. They came from the stars
and they returned to the stars. I think we scared them as much as they scared
“Have you had any other
experiences with Star Men?” I asked.
“I have seen UFOs several times.
I saw the one last night. Did you see it?” I nodded. “But I have never seen anything
like we saw that day.”
“Can you tell me anything else
about the experience?”
“It was so powerful that we
never went back there again. We never found a different drinking place, either.
In fact, we never had a drinking party after that. Maybe they were angels,” he
said laughing. “They sure made us give up our drinking ways.”
A day later, I checked out of
Alexandro’s hotel and moved to Belmopan. As I was leaving, he stopped me in the
lobby. “Be careful in your travels. It is a dangerous world out there, and don’t
let anyone ever say that you are not a curious woman. You are very curious.” He
reached out and embraced me, kissing me on my cheek. “Come back anytime,
Doctor. We can spend another night together. The next time, I give you the
penthouse suite at no extra charge.”
“What was that all about?”
Buddy asked as I joined him in the van.
“It was about men who walk
through mountains,” I replied.
The next time I returned to Belize, I stopped at the hotel and inquired
about Alexandro Jean. He had moved to Belmopan. The hours at the hotel had
taken a toll on his family life and his wife had given him an ultimatum: Either
he leave, or she leaves. The clerk did not have a forwarding address, so I was never
able to reconnect with Alexandro. But I have not forgotten the man who told me
about men from the stars who walked through mountains and made him and his
friends give up their drinking ways.
Dr. ArdySixkiller Clarke
brings to the field of Ufology degrees in history, English, psychology and
educational leadership and a background as a teacher, university professor,
administrator, licensed therapist and psychologist, and social science
researcher. As a professor emeritus at
Montana State University and director of the Center for Bilingual/Multicultural
Education, Dr. Clarke has focused on working with indigenous people. Her first book was the best-seller Encounters
With Star People. She lives in a mountain cabin at Big Sky, Montana.
live in an environment permeated by both natural and artificial sources of
electromagnetic energy, while we ourselves are electromagnetic beings. As we
continue to pollute and thereby alter our electromagnetic environment, we are
also altering ourselves. In particular, these changes infringe on the psychic
side of our being.
exciting and controversial new title shows how all things, from the mundane to
the mysterious, are tied together by a vast—and largely
invisible—electromagnetic web. It examines ESP, poltergeist disturbances,
psychokinesis, UFOs, spontaneous human combustion and other paranormal
phenomena from an electromagnetic perspective. It also reveals how the
artificial, alien energies we’ve been introducing into our environment shape
the way we experience the paranormal.
Please tune in for an interview with author Louis Proud.
Louis Proud is a writer and researcher specializing in anomalous phenomena. His articles have appeared in New Dawn, Paranormal, FATE, and Nexus magazines and he has been interviewed on such programs as VERITAS Radio, Paranormal Realms, and Whitley Strieber’s Dreamland. The author of Dark Intrusions and The Secret Influence of the Moon, he lives in Darwin, Australia.