To Our Readers

By ELIZABETH VALK LONG President

The 230-mile charter flight from Miami to Havana went as planned until the final approach to the airport. Suddenly the pilot announced a landing delay because of unexpected congestion. "The problem wasn't other planes but cows on the runway. We ended up circling for 25 minutes until they were cleared away," said TIME senior editor Johanna McGeary on her return from a two-week reporting assignment that led to this week's cover story.

McGeary's visit was a rare opportunity, because the U.S. generally forbids its citizens to visit Cuba, and Havana issues few visas to American reporters. Exploring what may lie ahead for the long-isolated country was an irresistible challenge to McGeary, who had served as TIME's State Department correspondent and Jerusalem bureau chief before becoming editor of the World section in 1988. McGeary is not one to grow complacent behind a desk. "The best part of journalism is reporting," she says. "I was a correspondent for 14 years before turning editor, and I'm still keen to go out and report stories myself."

And what a story. Fidel Castro's efforts to restrict press coverage have long made Cuba "one of the big, black holes of journalism," says McGeary. But times are changing. To her surprise, McGeary faced little interference from the government officials assigned to monitor her activities. "The authorities now seem sophisticated enough to gamble that if Americans see Cuba for themselves, they won't see the country just in black or white." Accompanied by Miami bureau chief Cathy Booth, McGeary logged hundreds of miles driving around the island. They interviewed hitchhikers, housewives, mine workers and bureaucrats. "The people were more willing than ever to talk about their frustrations and hopes for change," said Booth, who had traveled to Cuba three times since 1991.

The candor may stem from desperation. There are chronic food shortages (except in tourist hotels) and a virtual absence of such necessities as toilet paper and toothpaste. The capital's cityscape is bleak. "Havana is absolutely empty at night. There are no cars, no lights and no people on the streets, except for prostitutes," McGeary says. Yet most Cubans refuse to lose hope. Their vitality is what adds so much intrigue to the unfolding saga of the western hemisphere's last remaining Communist outpost.