My favorite thing about writing this blog is receiving comments. Sometimes they are awful and sometimes unexpectedly wonderful.
In my recent article about a jaunt through the countryside, I mentioned visiting Hacienda San Juan, located on an eastbound road out of Telchac Pueblo. I used to visit there years ago and I was there quite frequently. My friends Arthur and Carol Pogue, the owners, were interesting, funny, creative people.
Since I published the article, I have received mail from their son Chris, who sent a few photos, and from John Sowley, an artist who lived in Merida in the 80s. He sent me images of two paintings he had done for the Pogues on commission.
This is a photo Chris took of the view from the hacienda patio.
And here is a stunning portrait he took of Arthur L Pogue and Carole Virginia Pogue.
And here’s Carole.
John Sowley’s paintings of them used to hang in the hacienda and might still be there.
This is Arthur and his daughter.
And here is Carole, reclining. I couldn’t transfer the picture any bigger than this.
Here is one of my favorite stories about Arthur and Carole. They used to come into Merida once a week to shop and have lunch. They came in their old beater car that never seemed to fail them. Just as it is now, in those days the expat community was big on gossip. People thrived on it and some pretty mean-spirited stories were repeated about many of us.
One day Carole decided to make a game out of the gossip network. She was sitting in the Cafe Expres by herself reading a book and one of the local big mouths approached her and cheerily asked, “Where’s Arthur?”
Carole looked perplexed and said, “Why I don’t know. The last I saw him he was walking down the street with that little teller from Banamex. Hmmmmm – he’s been gone for quite a while.”
The woman’s eyes lit up with delight and she scurried off. The next week when they came to town, Carole was again sitting in the Expres and two other women came in, with pity in their eyes. “Oh Carole, we are so sorry. This must be terrible for you, and to be stuck living way out in the countryside by yourself.”
Carole managed a few sniffles and told them that Arthur had given the bank clerk a valuable ring. She was heartbroken, she said, and couldn’t imagine how she was going to go on.
The stories really escalated at that point and went off in many directions. Arthur was in Belize with his girlfriend, said a certain lady with the initials M.S. Carole was returning to the States. The hacienda was for sale.
I loved it. Thanks, Art and Carole, for seeing humor in the Merida expat social environment. This is not always an easy thing.