The Boy in the Fish Bowl...because The Man in the Fish Bowl just doesn't have that ring to it

Wow, has it really been a month since my last blog? I guess time flies when your day consists of wash (if the water is running), teach (if your students can understand you), repeat. I am sure to have some brain flatulence along the way, but I will try to recall this last month as best I can.

The first few weeks were spent adjusting to my new city. I walked around a lot trying to get a visual layout of the city, find where the cold beer was, and figure out which way led back to my apartment. Probably in that order too. I was lucky enough that Greg, the PCV in Edea before me, had left my house pretty well stocked so I didn’t need to look for too many necessities right away. I still have yet to buy a TV, but so far I haven’t missed the bad music videos and trashy soap operas that were rampant in Bafia.

The neighbors to my left are Anglophone and I am quite glad about that. Not that I don’t want to practice my newly acquired French skills, but sometimes it is nice to just come home and communicate with someone else without an enormous amount of effort on both sides. Even if they say that I am “rapping” when I talk too fast in my American English.

So the first few weeks were all about getting used to Edea. I quickly became friends with the neighbor boy, Treneo (pronounced Rahn-yo), who named my apartment the “House of Musique” because I was “always” playing music from my laptop or iPod. Anymore though, he’s the one that runs the batteries all the way down on my iPod ever since he discovered there were games he could play while listening to music. At first, he only liked to listen to the one Michael Jackson I had in my iTunes, “Billie Jean”, but he’s discovered an Avett Brothers song he likes along with a few others. Unfortunately, he’s also discovered which is my bedroom window and when I don’t come to his knocks at the front door he comes to the bedroom window and yells until I respond, usually with “I’m sleeping Treneo, Come back later!”

They told me that school would start for the administration on August 29^th and that the first day of school for teachers was September 5^th. What that really meant was that students would start coming to ENIEG to pay their school fees throughout the week and the end of the week we’d have staff meetings where teachers seemed to yell and complain a lot while the admin just smiled. A few of the Anglophone teachers made their comments in English so I was able to understand a little better than the French fragments I had been picking up otherwise.

My first day on the job was pretty bad. They couldn’t understand me, I couldn’t understand them. They laughed at my pronunciation, I got flustered. I started doubting my ability to actually be able to teach my students again, but by the end of the week I knew that I had improved somewhat and that’s really all I can ask for. People in the states go to school for 4+ years to become a teacher, I had 3 months. Will I make mistakes? Sure will and probably a lot of them. Will I like teaching every day? Sure won’t and probably a lot of days. But, I made a commitment to come to Cameroon and try to make a positive difference in the lives of the people that I interact with and knew it wasn’t going to be cupcakes and rainbows all the time. Optimism goes a long way over here if you can’t tell.

In case I had forgotten or become temporarily color blind, the locals have been kind enough to remind me that I am “le blanc” every chance they get i.e. while I’m walking by, on the back of a moto, or eating a meal. I try not to let it bug me. It’s more annoying than anything. I knew that I would be in a fish bowl, everyone constantly looking at you, and tried to mentally prepare myself, but it is pretty much impossible until you experience it firsthand. If it is a kid, I usually just smile and wave because they don’t know any better. If it’s a teen or adult I usually call them “black man” in the local language. They get a kick out of whitey speaking the native tongue. They also call me Jesuit (Jesus) a lot because of my beard. At first I got a kick out of it, but the novelty has worn off of it too. For a very religious country it seems pretty blasphemous. A beard shaving is in the near future, but I’m kind of getting a kick out of seeing how many creatures can find residence inside. Actually, a sense of humor is how I survive here with some optimism sprinkled in.

I’ve also had a few maintenance problems with my house already. The cable that ran from the water pipe to my toilet was constantly leaking and I figured I was probably going to be paying for more water than I was actually using. Doing my best Handy Manny impersonation, I grabbed some pliers and tried to tighten the bolt connected to the wall at the end of the loose cable. Apparently, I’m not a toilet technician or whatever is the politically correct term nowadays for a plumber. Somehow, I managed to break the bolt/washer thing when I tried to tighten it, disengaging the cable from the wall and the water line. Water began to spray, no maybe jet is a better word, into my bathroom like I had just ran into a fire hydrant. I tried reconnecting the cable, plugging the hole, catching the water in a bucket. Nothing was helping. Luckily, my neighbor was home and I yelled for his help. He saw the problem and was smart enough to go and turn the water to my place off outside. In my defense, I had no idea where the kill valve is so that was not an option when I was feeling like Captain Blackbeard in a couple inches of water. At least this time when my place flooded none of my electronics got wet like in Bafia. I gave him some CFA and he went and bought a new line and a stopper for the water line to the toilet so we could at least turn the water back on for the shower and sink until it got fixed. They took way longer than I would’ve liked to fix the toilet, probably at least two weeks. During that time frame how did I flush you ask? I filled up a bucket with shower water and dumped it down the toilet. It was like Bafia 1A and it did not work as well as you might imagine. I am happy to report that the toilet is fixed and the guy even managed to get the key working into my outside “kitchen”.  So far I’ve only made a fish dinner one time, but that was an accomplishment in itself. This ain’t McDonalds people, you cook the entire fish: head, fins, skin and all. I fed Treneo and neither of us have become ill as of this writing, so chalk that one up as a success.

My other maintenance problem was a bit more Posh Corps. My mini-fridge and air conditioner in my room were not working. I know, I’m really roughing it over here right? It cost a bit more than I would’ve liked, but the technician that worked at ENIEG came to my apartment and fixed both in one day. In fact, he worked so long into the night that when he came out and sat in one of the chairs while waiting for the fridge to cool down he dozed off. Multiple times. Only until I played a 17 minute live version of “The End” by The Doors, where Jim Morrison is shrieking into the mic, did his eyelids flutter. Seeing my cue I asked him if everything was good with the fridge. He said it was, but went back and fiddled with it some more. He then came out and declared that the fridge was running, but he was too tired to drive back to Douala and wanted to stay the night and leave in the morning. I didn’t want to make the guy drive back and flip his car on the way home so I cautiously agreed. While I was “preparing” the couch for him to sleep, I managed to take all my valuables to my room to be locked away with me. It’s not because he was Cameroonian. It’s because I didn’t know the guy from any other random person I came across on the street. I just thought I’d remove that temptation either way. He had been very kind to me and also gave me a good deal on the labor, I think anyways, so I would have had a hard time telling him to hit the road. My belief in my fellow man may burn me someday, but not this night. He left in the morning without a problem. Fridge is still running great, but A/C seems to be on the fritz again. Hopefully, next week he will return to fix it minus the slumber party.

The presidential election for Cameroon is next month on Oct. 9^th. Last week, I saw my first “election rally” for Paul Biya, the current president, and my first election poster, for another guy running. It proclaimed he was the man for the situation. I am interested to see how this all shakes out.

That was my first month, more or less. Every day brings a new challenge and a new laugh. I miss all of you back home and will try to update with more regularity in the future. My water is currently not running, so enjoy that American plumbing.

MMM

Monday, August 22, 2011

You think you’ve seen it all in Cameroon until you’re on the way to the bank on the back of a moto and a grown man is completely naked walking down the middle of the street in the rain. C’est la vie ici. (That is life here)

Rewind. As you can tell from the French knowledge bomb I just dropped, I made my language level. Somehow, they consider me an Intermediate High French speaker. I won’t argue ;). Another great thing about Peace Corps is that they will pay up to 15,000 CEFA a month for me to continue getting tutored in French, which I am gladly going to pursue. I’m conversational in French, but I have a long way to go. I’m sure my student-teachers will let me know that next month when classes begin.

So I’ve become an official Peace Corps Volunteer. You think after you jump through all the hoops and examinations of the application process you’re in right? Wrong, you’re just a peon until you survive training. Well my friends, I did it. Questioned myself a lot along the way, but glad I stuck it out. [Insert cheesy cliché about adversity in life.] 

After the ceremony we had a lunch with our host families. They got certificates of appreciation for hosting us dirty Americans. In a truly Gary Miller-esque moment, we didn’t have a bottle opener at our table for the beer. So what does host dad Mefire do? Puts the cap on the side of a table and slams his hand down so the lip pops off. It sounded like a gunshot and most people turned in our direction. I felt like you would have done the exact same thing big guy J.

I went back to house with my host family (Mefire and Landry) and hung out with them until Mefire fell asleep on the couch. I ate my first few pieces of sugar cane. Delicious. It’s funny, the whole time during training I couldn’t wait to be out of the house and answering to myself, but when the day finally came it was bittersweet. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing them for awhile. I chilled out on the porch with Landry for a bit and shot the breeze. Mefire finally woke up and I went with him to his office so he could grab his bag. His female co-worker said she wanted to be wife and go back to America with me. Damn this irresistible charm, it’s a blessing and a curse.

We rented out the Hotel New Palace in Bafia for our post-swearing in party before we would all depart for post the next morning. We drank, we laughed, and we danced. We had a “high school” superlatives form that most of us filled out before the party. Technically, I won Best Beard and Worst Dressed based solely on my selection of a tye dye polo as business casual. It’s like a mullet. It says I can be serious, but I also like to party. Okay, no one with a mullet actually gets taken serious, but I’m a tye-dye supporter and it’s got a collar so it counts. Everyone had to give an acceptance speech as well. Mine went something like this, “Screw you all, I look damn good.” For best beard we were trying to share the superlative wealth that night and a lot of people became infatuated with the seven red whiskers growing out of Preston’s chin so he took home the honor.

The next morning most of us did the zombie walk to the training house to make sure our stuff was getting packed on the right bus. We would later find out for some, it was not. The Hangover Breakfast Special in Cameroon: an Oreo from Danielle and a piece of chicken Christian’s mom had given him for his trip. Best stale Oreo I ever ate.

We said our goodbyes, gave some dap snaps (the Cameroonian handshake is a complex beast that I will introduce to all of you when I return), and were bouncing along on a bus in no time. I got a window seat and we actually travelled all the way to Yaounde with just Volunteers, a first for us. 

My travel plans were to stay at the case (a transit house for PC Volunteers passing through Yaounde) that night and head to Edea the next day. Hot showers and fast(er) Internet? I’m game. Unfortunately, I never did take a shower there because I had no idea where I had packed my towels. I actually only packed boxer briefs in my backpack so I was still wearing my PC paigne shirt and shorts from after swearing in. This continued the following day as well. 

Enough about my lack of cleanliness. That night a few of us staying at the case went to the Hilton Happy Hour and a pizza place. For about five hours it felt like I had taken a rocket ship back to a developed country. I mean, the Pizza Roma had a Playstation 3 and 3 flat screen TVs at this pizza place. Where the hell was I!? The only game was Soccer Euro Tour 2008, but I wasn’t bitchin. I would have played Space Invaders if that was our only choice. We had to teach them how to charge the controller since it was dead, but we got a little footie in as we devoured four pizzas. There weren’t the biggest pieces so four was necessary. Did I mention the scale at the case said I weigh 170 lbs now? If that thing is even fairly accurate, I’ve lost between 15-20 lbs. Not really sure where seeing as I still have my beer belly, but I’m not bitchin’. I don’t think I’ve weighed that since high school and was up to 200 lbs this past winter. I thank you Wii Fit for telling me to get my ass in gear.

So after a night at the case they woke us up and told us it was time to head out. My driver dropped me off at the bus station and helped me unload all my crap, including a bike. Luckily, the workers at the bus station watched my stuff for me while I waited in line for a half hour to buy my ticket. They said some kids kept coming around eyeing my goods so they kept a look out. Good people.

I managed to make it to Edea with all my stuff somehow. The bus dropped me off on the side of the road in Edea, sounds bad but that’s just how it goes here, and the driver helped me unload. I waited for my community host to show up and figure out a way to get all my stuff to my place. Meanwhile, a nice lady, Anne, across the street at a restaurant told me to bring my stuff over and put it under the roof because it was going to rain. She even waved over some Cameroonian kid to help me bring everything. I gave the kid 100 CEFA for the help and he just laughed and asked if I was American. Wait, you mean Cameroonian wasn’t your first guess? I also realized how hungry I was at this point and ordered the chicken dinner in tomato sauce with rice and a cold beer for my lunch/dinner. Pretty soon Mr. Djame and the director of my school, his last name starts with a T so how about Mr. T for now, showed up and I bought them a beer for bringing a car so I could transport everything to my apartment.

 The naked guy in the street happened today on my way to the bank. I was able to withdrawal the money I needed to buy some stuff for my apartment with the help of some friendly bank ladies. Also, I bought a bottle of gas so I can cook with my stovetop burner and am going back to get my USB Internet key tomorrow and hopefully able to post this little guy. Slowly but surely I am getting my place together. I need more surfaces to put all the stuff I have on. I scrubbed my bathroom with some Ajax pretty good. It’s still not the cleanest, but it’s a far cry from what it was when I got here. It will definitely need scrubbed better by the time Mama gets here, but I’ll have this place sparkling by then. I used the zebra duct tape that Ben, Britney and the kids had given me in my birthday survival kit to make a banner in my bathroom above the tile on the pink walls. My bathroom now looks like that of a thirteen year old girl.

The training chapter has been completed and now the official teaching chapter begins. No more model school, this is the real deal. I am comforted by the fact that I was able to carry on a conversation in French with some people outside of a guns and ammo store while I waited on the rain to die down. I am not comforted by the fact that I was standing outside of a guns and ammo store. 

Sad I wasn’t able to see Sinister Midget rock the Bratfest this year, but am really looking forward to checking out the pics and videos online when I get Internet here. I’ll miss the BF next year as well, but I’m pretty sure I will be home by Bratfest 2013 so get your party pants on by then people.

 Love and miss you all back home,

Max

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Sometimes you’re the fly and sometimes you’re the swatter. Yesterday, I was the fly. I found out that I didn’t make my language level for post. After the first LPI, (Language Proficiency Interview) I moved from Novice Low to Intermediate Mid. After this weekend’s LPI, I didn’t move at all. I felt like a waste of space once I found out, but I’m trying to stay positive. I didn’t really feel like I deserved to be Intermediate High after the interview so this just kind of confirmed my thoughts. Granted, I don’t really think I should be teaching teachers either, but that is a rant for another day. 

I have to get in 20 more hours of French lessons and the head language trainer will schedule another LPI for me. I am almost halfway there already so it looks like I will be taking the next LPI somewhere near the end of next week. I don’t feel like that is enough time, but I’m going to give it my best shot and hope for the best. I think this time they had me so freaked out that about using the proper tense that I just froze up and it seemed like I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m seriously contemplating slugging down a beer beforehand to loosen up the nerves. No, I don’t care if the language interview is at 8AM.

On a brighter note, I got my first set of tailored paigne clothes made. I got a short sleeve short and some sick shorts made to perfection by the deaf brother of one of the fellow trainees. The man knows his stuff. Oh yeah, paigne is the traditional fabric that you buy here to get clothes made from it. Granted, ours was this ugly Peace Corps paigne for the swearing-in ceremony, but it was kind of cool that it had all of the countries in Africa that PC is in. Also, found out that even if we don’t hit out language level that we get to swear in. We just get a letter that says it is contingent upon us completing our language requirement. If I don’t make my level after the next interview, I have to stay in Bafia for an extra two weeks of strictly French lessons every day. I feel like 8 hours of French is kind of like beating my head against the wall so hopefully I won’t have to go through that. If it does happen though, it won’t be the end of the world. I know I’ve only been on this journey for a little over 60 days, but I feel like I’ve faced as much adversity as I have in my life. Life isn’t all cupcakes and rainbows and I wouldn’t want it like that. The rainy days make the sunshine feel that much better.

This will be a short blog post because I’m tired and I want to read for a bit, hit the French books, and go for a run in the morning. Sorry if this little guy felt like a pity party, I really wasn’t going for that vibe. I just wanted to share that I'm taking some punches, bouncing off the ropes, and coming out swinging. Send telepathic French vocab my way.

With love,

MMM

Saturday/Sunday

You know that you’re adjusting to life in the Peace Corps when you discover that your 60 pack of Eclipse gum has spilled in the bottom of your bag and you decide to eat the giant glob that has formed, despite the visible dirt, and put the rest of the pieces back into the container for later consumption. Hey, good gum is hard to come by over here and you’d want to kill all the bacteria in your mouth that you could if you were in this country too.

Tonight’s blog post will include responses to questions and texts that I have received so far. I plan on buying some air-o-grams, probably spelled wrong, but basically a little pre-stamped envelope that I can write on the inside and seal and send to the states before I leave Bafia.  So leave a comment, e-mail, facebook message with your address if you think that you would enjoy reading my chicken scratch. I can’t promise that I will be able to accommodate everyone if I get a ton of requests, but I will do my best to get one out to you if funds will allow. If not now, then sometime during my service. 

Aunt Kathi- You win the porcupine dinner if you ever find yourself in Cameroon for sending me three letters. It always makes me feel good to get a letter handed to me from home J. My French is improving, but I definitely still have a long way to go. I get frustrated a lot with my progress, but am trying to keep in perspective and think how much better I am then when I entered Cameroon. So glad that you joined Facebook and we have a way to keep in touch a little more quickly than snail mail. Speaking of which there are a lot of snails crawling around over here. I expected lions and elephants and giraffes, but didn’t think I’d encounter so many snails. It’s not as crazy hot and humid like my forecast says it is for Bucyrus, but it’s still pretty damn hot here. Humid, but not unbearable. Don’t worry about not getting the water purification kit, that was one of the things we got before coming to Bafia and it has been working fine so far. Should probably clean that bad lad pretty soon though the top level is getting kind of gross. Your 2^nd letter pretty much predicted the beach house so maybe the big guy upstairs is still listening. In that case, keep the prayers and good vibes coming my way! Loved the doodles and the stories from the roadside rest. Some of the other workers warned me about Tammy when I first got back to working at Waycraft in March, but we got along great. I could tell she was a lady that I didn’t want to piss off and was glad to have her on my side. Tell Grandma that if she wants to write me that I would love to receive it. I am homesick and I don’t know if that will ever cease, but I think that it won’t be so strong over time here. Every time I get a letter it is bittersweet. It makes me miss home and the people that I love, but at the same time I love hearing from you guys and would much rather have that bittersweet feeling than no letters at all. I got kind of upset after I talked to her with Mom and Dad just because it was the first time I had gotten to talk to her since leaving and I realized how much I missed her. At the same time, it was so uplifting to be able to hear her voice and talk to her like I was only an hour away. She sounded really good and I definitely enjoyed being able to tell her about life in Cameroon even if it did tug on the heartstrings a bit. So keep on encouraging her to write me J. I was pretty happy to hear that you and Masa got to hang out for a bit, talk, and make sure the air was clear. He’s one of my very best friends and I’m really hoping things work out for him. If anybody deserves it, it’s him. I’m gonna feel helpless over here if something happens with his living situation before I return, but just trying to stay positive about the situation. Thanks for the kind words about the blog, I get it from my mama! Thank you again for keeping the communication up from back home. Don’t feel like you have to keep cranking out the letters if time or funds don’t allow. Just wanted you to know how much I appreciated it. Love and miss ya Aunt Kathi!

Aunt Lori- Hunter sounds like he has a pretty full schedule with basketball, tennis, swimming, and hanging out with his buds. The card made me chuckle. Wow, it really is hot there! I don’t think we’ve hit 118, but I know the heat gets a lot worse during dry season. The northern part of the country also is a lot hotter than the rest, but I’ve been told by multiple Volunteers that Edea gets pretty toasty too. Good thing I’m so close to the beach! I really enjoyed Hunter’s letter as well. To answer his questions: I am doing pretty well over here. It is quite the adjustment from America, but I am trying to take it all in and enjoy the moment. I can’t believe you are already going into the 3^rd grade! I’ve got some pictures in my photo album from when you were a rugrat still. The joke made me laugh out loud and I will now share it so the rest of my blog can enjoy:

Why was Tigger’s head in the toilet? He was looking for Pooh! HAHAHA 

Nicole, the Winnie Pooh lover of my fam, should definitely get a kick out of that. Thank you guys for writing me, I really enjoyed reading your letters. Tell Gary my golf game will be way worse when I get back so expect some long rounds. Love and miss you Morrows!

Aunt Patti- The story about Ellie reaching out for the other little boy swimmers was hilarious. These are the stories that I need to hear to keep a smile on my face over here when times are tough. Heard you sent out my care package this weekend so thank you very much for that! Wouldn’t be able to make it over here without my support system back home. Loved seeing the picture of Grandma and you guys with little Eve and the Moosketeers. Another trainee saw the first Moose picture and remarked how awesome it was that you guys did that. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’ll put my family up against anybody else’s. Teaching in a foreign language is extremely hard, but I’m trying to make the best of it. I don’t have a problem using simple sentences and tenses, but the vocabulary for teaching computers doesn’t really allow for that so that is what makes it so hard. Right now I’m attempting to teach binary, i.e. how a computer thinks in 1’s and 0’s, which I barely understand in English let alone French. Oh well, I try my best and that’s all I can do. It’s pretty hard to control my classes, but I remember what it was like to be a kid and I try not to get too frustrated. I only have two more weeks with them anyways so I can make that with my eyes closed. The last day is exam day too so it is actually less than two weeks. Yes, I’m counting the days J. Happy anniversary to you and Uncle Trev next weekend if I don’t get a chance to congratulate you before! Thank you again for sending me a care package. I’m sure I will be thrilled to receive all the goodies packed inside and thank you for the last minute sunglasses addition. Love and miss all of the Zaharas, Uhers, and Arnolds! (Reverse alphabetical as I’m sure you Zaharas are sick of having to wait til the end to hear your name called. Megan got a bump to the front of the line :p)

Bro- Yep, I’m moving to Edea sometime at the end of August. If I pass my language test next weekend I should be moving sometime right around the 17^th, but if I don’t pass it will be more towards the end of the month. Hoping I don’t have to be stuck here while everyone else gets to swear in, but if I have to spend an extra two weeks of preparation in French it won’t be the end of the world. I could probably actually use the extra two weeks. French newspaper is a good idea, I’m just not sure where to find them here. Seems like they use newspaper more for wrapping baguettes than actually reading them.  I have never seen any at the supermarket, but it might be easier to find French papers in a bigger city like Edea. I agree that seeing the words makes it easier to pronounce and comprehend than just hearing the world orally. I have told my language trainers that I am a visual learner and need to see the word in order to remember it. For your market question, I will refer you to the previous post. We didn’t spend too much time looking at each individual seller since we were on a very important chicken mission, but the whole scene was chaos. Somebody was making something that smelled just like funnel cakes/elephant ears though and I’m pretty sure I started drooling. I am going to try and take some pictures of the market when I get to Edea to show you all back home because me describing a day at the market won’t do it justice. Luckily, one of the main markets is right outside my school so I can grab some goodies before or after class. Some smaller village posts only have a weekly market, but I am fortunate enough to have a market every day. Don’t worry about sending any ps2 games, the PCV before me left me a ton, including NCAA 07 which I was pretty stoked to find, and I want to try and spend most of my down time trying to finally get the six-string under my belt. But I appreciate the offer nonetheless. I’m missing you and the fam and look forward to getting my own Internet at post so we can Skype from time to time. Love and miss ya bro, give the kids a kiss from Uncle Max and Brit a hug!

Grandpa Ron- Don’t worry about not writing me before, I have been very busy over here and will probably have to cut back on the blogging if I don’t make my language level next weekend to study my French even more. Loved reading about how you had to carry water in from the well outside. 50 years later our lives sound quite similar in that regard. Thank you for the prayers and for writing me. I tell a lot of people over here about how much fun I had working the farmer’s market with you the past summer. Sad that I won’t be able to help you for awhile, but hopefully when I get back I can finally come see the little farm up in Amish country. Love and miss ya Grandpa!

Don’t feel bad if you were planning on writing and haven’t yet. I have 25+ months yet so there is plenty of time for that! And I know that you all are just as busy back in the states as I am here. Yeseterday, the cylinder of my door lock came off in the morning, but it’s been fixed so I am safe and secure again. I’m also pretty sure that I ate a fish eyeball at lunch. I didn’t really see it until the fork was about to enter my mouth and something was staring at me. At least it didn’t wink.

I got to Skype with Mom and Dad yesterday for about 40 minutes so that was great. Today, they have the kiddos so hopefully I will get to see my beautiful nieces and handsome nephew if the Internet will allow. I’ve been reading some Peace Corps material and it basically said that the days will surely seem to go slow overseas, but the entire experience goes by quicker than you can imagine. Granted, this is also from the people that want Volunteers to complete their entire term of service, but the message makes sense. High school graduation was five years ago and it feels like yesterday. It seems like such a long time right now, but that is just because I’m so close to the starting line. I am trying to make a conscious effort to take everything in and experience as much as I can during this journey of cultural exchange and self-discovery. Besides, being negative never got anybody anywhere right? The next will come, so enjoy the now. 

MMM