Las fotos del New York Times que no te puedes perder
Battered Chevys still course up and down the broad avenues, and photos of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara still paper the city like campaign posters. But you can also try the sumptuous seafood risotto at a high-end paladar, or watch a concert in one of the new venues that feel like a revamped industrial loft. Cuba’s inconsistencies are especially apparent now that relations with the United States have been restored after more than a half a century of hostility.
Change is fighting with tradition. The public’s desire for openness is being met with the government’s resistance to letting go. Alongside the upscale bars where young Cubans spend small fortunes on imported whiskey are homes that have not received a fresh coat of paint in 50 years. Contradiction is more than just a sign of a changing Cuba — it is a fundamental characteristic of it.
Cuba at times can feel like a nation abandoned. The aching disrepair of its cities, the untamed foliage of its countryside, the orphaned coastlines — a half-century of isolation has wrapped the country in decay. Yet few places in the world brim with as much life as Cuba, a contrast drawn sharper amid its faded grandeur.
They wait, coiled with anticipation. For web pages to download. For tourists to hurry up and buy something. For a flag to be raised. Cubans know how to wait. Yet, after decades of Communist rule, they are less prepared to handle the feeling of opportunity now permeating the island, and their government’s resistance to letting them seize it.