My Greatest Fear


By Pedro Pablo Morejon

HAVANA TIMES – It’s been a good while since dying stopped being my greatest fear. I no longer believe in the biblical Hell promised by Yahweh for all those souls that reject Christ, nor the Koranic Hell for Allah’s infidels, or any other God’s Hell. I don’t believe in any of it.

Maybe we are just eternal unconsciousness like the atheist materialists say we are, or we are reincarnated and live many more lives, I have no idea. Beyond being a great mystery of human existance, death doesn’t intimidate me, the idea might make me a little uneasy, of course, because we all want to live, to cling onto life, pretty much all of us anyway. I hope death is like the end of one journey and the beginning of another.

Getting old isn’t my greatest fear. Luckily, it seems I was born with good genes. I don’t even catch a cold. On top of that, I exercise my body almost daily, I look after it and nourish it, I also have healthy living habits.

While there’s always the chance I could suddenly and inexplicably die in an accident, I don’t believe I’ll die anytime soon, and I don’t see myself being one of those sick old people, who move around with great difficulty, with a walking stick sometimes. I know that when the time comes (unless some ill befalls me), I’ll be able to look after myself and I know I’ll be able to spark the interest of a mature woman that’s easy on the eyes.

Nor are the chronic shortages that besiege my town my greatest fear. I’ve learned to get by with them and I’m already managing to get hold of enough to eat three basic meals a day, and even have a snack, and not feel this little pang in my stomach that only comes from hunger.

My greatest fear isn’t being punished for exercising my right to be free within a totalitarian society, either. A while ago, I had to get my head around the idea that while we live in post-modern times and stereotypical masculinities, men are forged in times of war.

My greatest fear right now is, I have to admit, THAT MY REFRIGERATOR STOPS WORKING. I keep milk, yogurt, meat, stews in there… much of what I’m able to find and need to be able to eat.

My fridge.

Four years ago, I needed to get it fixed and it cost me 3,000 pesos at the time. I guess now, after the so-called Economic Reforms, it would cost me over 15,000, but the worst thing is that the mechanic told me that if I ever did have problems with it again, I would need to get a new one.

How much does a fridge-freezer cost nowadays? I haven’t found out yet, but I’m guessing the price would be out of my galaxy. That’s not all of it though, the worst thing is where I’d find one in this goddamn country where even finding a nail is difficult.

Every day, I pray to the Gods I don’t believe in for my refrigerator to not break down on me. That’s why when I get home and I walk up to the appliance, the soft and monotonous sound of the motor working is music to my ears, such a delightful melody that it would shine more than any Beatles’ song.

Read more from Pedro Pablo Morejon’s diary here.