Free Sky People by Ardy Sixkiller Clarke Page B

power. I avoid her eyes. That way I am not influenced by her. I can see things as they really are.”
    After talking with Albert for another few minutes, it was evident that he had nothing to add to his original story. We said our goodbyes and decided to take some time to investigate the ancient site. As I looked upon the Castile, it was not hard to imagine the mysterious woman who came to this site and transfixed the villagers into believing she was a stone woman with the ability to walk through walls and appear on a beam of light. Xunantunich was a magical place, far removed from the modern world.
    O
ne day, I plan to go back to Xunantunich to discover if the legend has been updated or if the Stone Woman has made a recent appearance. For now, it remains on my bucket list.

PART II

Walking With the Ancients:
Exploring Honduras
    Whereas Catherwood and Stephens traveled overland to Copán Ruinas, Buddy drove me there. It took Stephens and Catherwood eleven days to reach their destination; it took us eleven hours with stops for gas, snacks, and
baño
(bathroom) breaks. It was a long, wending, treacherous, mountain journey from Belize City through San Pedro Sula, Honduras, to Copán Ruinas. Cars and trucks passed without paying attention to the double yellow lines, traffic, horses, chickens, dogs, bikes, or people on the side of the road. Horns blared, accompanied by loud voices of the cars’ and trucks’ occupants. Men in jeans and straw hats walked along the highway on their way to their small hillside gardens. Fruit stands dotted the highway at every wide spot along the road. Children ran to the road and attempted to stop traffic to sell small items or to beg. The people were poor, the poorest I had seen since beginning my journey. When Stephens made the trip he armed himself and his companions with multiple weapons as a defenseagainst bandits. Apparently, the situation had not changed, and I was warned that travel at night along this highway was a major risk. Bandits prowled the night, and murder was not uncommon.
    Once at the hotel in Copán Ruinas, Buddy inspected my room and made sure that my belongings were stowed and safe. We met two hours later for dinner. It was a cool evening, a welcome respite from the heat of the day. The sounds of cars and horns were replaced by the sounds of night birds and frogs. In the restaurant we met a young French couple in need of a ride to Belize. After a few minutes of negotiation, Buddy planned a return trip to Belize with his new clients for the next day. We said goodbye that night as I planned to sleep late the next morning. I would miss Buddy. He had become my friend and protector. He was now a part of my extended family, and I, his. When I returned to my hotel room, I realized that for the first time since my journey began, I was totally alone.
    I spent my first two days wandering the village of Copán Ruinas and familiarizing myself with the ancient city of Copán. Unlike in Stephens’s day, who reported a village of a few huts, it was a town of about 10,000 people. The streets within the town were steep and made of cobblestone, but a few blocks away from Parque Central, the town square, were dirt roads, ranches, and small farms. The area was quite mountainous with palm, orange, and banana trees everywhere. The days were hot, the evenings cool. Corn fields dotted the landscape along with horses, chickens, and dogs. Although Copán Ruinas had running water and electricity, there were frequent outages of both. Bottled water sometimes became a luxury so, on the advice of Buddy, I brought my own. There were no street names in Copán Ruinas, but any house could be found with the name of the neighborhood or the landlord. Most of the people spoke Spanish or English. Few of the Chorti Maya spoke their native dialect. A private bilingual school begun by a local teacher attracted young, English-speaking teachers from all over the world. English, Spanish, and Mayan languages were taught