Cubans expecting their new president to transform their strained lives are tempering their hopes as they gradually accept him at his word: Small improvements will come with time, but nothing will happen overnight.
Hopes for at least modest economic reforms sprang up 20 months ago when Raul Castro took over provisionally from his ailing older brother, Fidel. When he became president last month, the hopes blossomed.
But beginning with his Feb. 24 inauguration speech, Castro has tried to lower expectations. While promising generally to eliminate an "excess of prohibitions and regulations," he said any change would be slow and require hard work by all Cubans.
Since then, there have been no overt changes in the state-controlled economy, and many Cubans are coming around to the idea that -- once again -- they will need to be patient.
"Raul says we have to work hard, and we have to work well," said Orestes, a retired military man.
He smiled, but politely refused to answer, when asked for his last name; ordinarily chatty Cubans often clam up around foreign reporters, worried they could get into trouble.
Privately, many Cubans express hopes that the near-worthless pesos they get on their government paychecks will increase in value, that their pensions and salaries will increase, that they will be allowed to travel abroad without government permission.
Although few could afford the luxury, many also talk about getting unlimited Internet access, and regaining access to hotels now restricted to foreigners.
Life over the past year has been a string of disappointments.
International news reports said microwave ovens and DVD players would soon be in stores, but these have not materialized. Rumors that ordinary Cubans would be allowed to buy cellphone service have proven unfounded. There was speculation that people would be allowed to buy homes and cars. They still cannot.
One concrete improvement is public transportation. Thousands of new Chinese-made buses ordered on Fidel Castro's watch are finally plying new routes, eliminating commuter bottlenecks.
"Transportation is a marvel!" exclaimed Niola Prieto, a flower vendor at the farmers' market, pointing to a huge red bus rumbling by with more than 100 passengers. "Hopefully Raul can do the same with the food situation."
The new president has made food a priority, taking steps to increase farm production. He has also acknowledged the need to improve salaries and resolve a dual-currency system that severely limits Cubans' buying power.
The question is, how long will they wait? Older Cubans are used to waiting hours for a bus, months for their children's school uniforms, or years for telephone installation in their home. Younger Cubans, eager for computers and iPods, may be less patient.
"Raul and his government, like the Comandante before them, act as if time were on their side," Marifeli Perez-Stable, vice president at the Washington-based Inter-American Dialogue, told a US House of Representatives foreign affairs subcommittee on March 5. "Will the one-step-at-a-time pace be enough to satisfy the citizenry?"
Perez-Stable said Cuban leaders fear what happened to Soviet leaders who lost control of quickening change.
But so far, Havana shows no signs of widespread restlessness.
The last spell of profound, generalized discontent in the capital was felt during hours-long power cuts during the heat of summer in 2005. A scattering of public protests and anti-Fidel graffiti had authorities worried, but a renovation of the electrical grid ended the blackouts.
Hal Klepak, a professor at the Royal Military College of Canada who studies Raul Castro, said the government should be able to maintain political control by making minor economic improvements at a measured pace.
"The challenge for the younger generations will be to have patience, while keeping up their demands," Klepak said in Havana. "For authorities, it will be to give the green light and show the people there is hope -- but they are not going to lose control."
When Shanghai-based designer Guo Qingshan posted a vacation photo on Valentine’s Day and captioned it “Puppy Mountain,” it became a sensation in China and even created a tourist destination. Guo had gone on a hike while visiting his hometown of Yichang in central China’s Hubei Province late last month. When reviewing the photographs, he saw something he had not noticed before: A mountain shaped like a dog’s head rested on the ground next to the Yangtze River, its snout perched at the water’s edge. “It was so magical and cute. I was so excited and happy when I discovered it,” Guo said.
Chinese authorities said they began live-fire exercises in the Gulf of Tonkin on Monday, only days after Vietnam announced a new line marking what it considers its territory in the body of water between the nations. The Chinese Maritime Safety Administration said the exercises would be focused on the Beibu Gulf area, closer to the Chinese side of the Gulf of Tonkin, and would run until tomorrow evening. It gave no further details, but the drills follow an announcement last week by Vietnam establishing a baseline used to calculate the width of its territorial waters in the Gulf of Tonkin. State-run Vietnam News
TURNAROUND: The Liberal Party had trailed the Conservatives by a wide margin, but that was before Trump threatened to make Canada the US’ 51st state Canada’s ruling Liberals, who a few weeks ago looked certain to lose an election this year, are mounting a major comeback amid the threat of US tariffs and are tied with their rival Conservatives, according to three new polls. An Ipsos survey released late on Tuesday showed that the left-leaning Liberals have 38 percent public support and the official opposition center-right Conservatives have 36 percent. The Liberals have overturned a 26-point deficit in six weeks, and run advertisements comparing the Conservative leader to Trump. The Conservative strategy had long been to attack unpopular Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, but last month he
Four decades after they were forced apart, US-raised Adamary Garcia and her birth mother on Saturday fell into each other’s arms at the airport in Santiago, Chile. Without speaking, they embraced tearfully: A rare reunification for one the thousands of Chileans taken from their mothers as babies and given up for adoption abroad. “The worst is over,” Edita Bizama, 64, said as she beheld her daughter for the first time since her birth 41 years ago. Garcia had flown to Santiago with four other women born in Chile and adopted in the US. Reports have estimated there were 20,000 such cases from 1950 to