LA PAZ, Bolivia _ Evo Morales, the new Bolivian president, does not like being asked about drug dealing. Nor does he like questions about his admiration of Cuban dictator Fidel Castro, or his friendship with Venezuela's controversial President Hugo Chavez. But, after all, that is why I have traveled to Bolivia: to try to get to know the real Evo Morales.

      My appointment with the coca-grower leader was changed several times: "Evo is still in Cochabamba," "He has an appointment at the Radisson Hotel," "It's for security reasons" _ until at last, at midday, we caught up with him at his own home in the Bolivian capital.

      He was wearing the same "chompa," or red-and-blue-striped sweater in which he appeared throughout his recent tour of Europe, Asia and South America. He doesn't wear a necktie because, in his own words, "the majority of ordinary people never wear a tie."

      From his first words it was clear he feels more comfortable speaking his native tongue, Aymara, than Spanish. But that did not prevent him clearly stating that he "admires and respects" Castro (who has ruled Cuba since 1959, the very year Morales was born).

      "There is democracy there," Morales said about the Castro regime. "For me, (Castro) is a democratic man who defends life, who thinks of the human being; if he's a dictator for you, that's your problem, not mine."

      But when I asked if it wasn't hypocrisy to desire democracy for the Bolivian people _ a democracy, since 1982, achieved with so much difficulty _ but not for Cubans, the conversation became dangerously personal.

      "I ask you, very respectfully, not to call me a hypocrite," he admonished. "Hypocrisy comes only from your questions."

      I then tried, not very successfully, to explain what I was doing:

      "My job as a journalist, with all due respect, Mr. Morales, is to ask questions."

      The atmosphere, suddenly, had become tense. He was annoyed and it was showing; he twisted round in his seat. I heard the complaints of his press adviser in the back, but I continued.

      When I told him the Cuban exile community could prove the deaths of thousands of persons in the hands of Castro, Morales directed his attacks against U.S. President George W. Bush: "I do not see as much death (in Cuba) as that perpetrated by the United States in Iraq."

      "Fidel? How many military bases does he have in Latin America or the world?" he asked rhetorically, and then went on: "And Bush? You tell me, how many military bases does he have in the world and where is he committing massacres every day?"

      "In your opinion, is Bush a murderer?" I asked him.

      "The people will say that," he replied, avoiding speaking in the first person. "(It is) a savage military intervention; the people will say that's what it is."

      However, when I tried again to get his personal opinion, he answered, showing annoyance, "Stop insisting." And later he added: "What you are trying for is an international confrontation, and I will not permit that."

      I attempted to ask him about his alliance with Chavez _ he refers to Cuba, Venezuela and Bolivia as "the axis of goodness" _ but he refused to respond, telling me that from now on, he would only answer topics related to Bolivia. The conversation was not going well, so I skipped to the subject of drug-dealing.

      In Bolivia, there are about 74,130 acres of coca cultivation. Part of this is for traditional consumption by Bolivians who use the leaf for preparing tea and as a medicine. But another important part of it is destined for drug dealers who turn the leaves into the paste from which cocaine is produced.

      "Are you thinking about eradicating coca cultivation in Bolivia?" I asked him.

      "No," he answered, unhesitatingly. "Coca is sacred. Coca will never be eradicated. Yes, drug dealing must be eradicated, demand has to be eradicated and cocaine needs to be eradicated."

      But when I asked him for details about his plans to prevent excess coca leaves from being used by drug lords, Morales ended the interview.

      "Thank you very much, time's up," he said, as he arose from his chair and tore off the microphone. I looked at my watch; we had conversed less than seven minutes, far less time than the 15 minutes I had been promised.

      "Didn't you like the questions?" I managed to suggest. "No, it's not that," Morales muttered, while his press assistant asked me to be quiet and leave: "Companero, please, companero ... "

      Morales was looking away when I left the room.

      I admit this was not the best way to meet a new leader. Maybe my own image of Morales from abroad _ rather more of a stereotype _ did not match the perception in Bolivia that, at last, the great majority of its people had an indigenous leader who looked like them and promised to defend them.

      Many Bolivians told me to wait and see what Morales does and not give so much weight to what he says. To begin with, he's already reduced the presidential salary by half: he'll earn the equivalent of $1,875 a month, becoming one of the world's worst-paid presidents.

      But, regardless of this, Morales will have to do much more than reduce his salary to carry forward the 9 million inhabitants of South America's poorest nation. His plans to nationalize the country's natural gas have not been spelled out and the Bolivian request for a $598-million U.S.loan is still pending. But Bolivians are expecting results _ and good jobs _ soon. The country is famous for its political impatience; it has had five presidents in the last three years.

      More than representing hope for a better future, Morales is a product of the hopelessness wrought by past corruption, racial discrimination, abuse ... and strategic mistakes of American policy in the region. Three years after U.S. Ambassador Manuel Rocha asked the Bolivian people not to vote for Morales, 54 percent of voters ignored his plea and, in December 2005, voted for Morales.

      Morales said he would be a "nightmare" for the United States and he already is. What Che Guevara failed to fulfill when he came to Bolivia in 1966, Morales achieved four decades later, but with votes and rather than bullets.

      Morales has some of the intransigence of Latin America's old left (like, for example, his support for the Cuban dictatorship) and some of the pragmatism of the new left which has learned how to win elections _ from Chile to Mexico.

      If my brief interview with Morales is any indication of the path his presidency will take, the principal danger is that political "mountain sickness" will cloud his mind, or that power goes to his head, or that he takes undue risks with the fragile Bolivian democracy and isolates Bolivia from globalization.

      This nation, which has no way out to the sea, is gambling on Morales for a way out to the future.