Immigration Misconception

"Are you here for good?", Is usually one of the first questions I get asked whenever I meet a new person, ever since I left Israel four years ago. My answer is always the same one, and it will come as no shock to all of you who already know about my incapability to give a straight answer to anything - we are here for as long as it's fun. Usually people look at me quite weirdly after I say that, but it is the only answer I have to give, and the most honest one. "And then what?", comes the next logical question (because by this time we are still new acquaintances and they are not yet aware of the futility of asking me logical questions) "will you go back to Israel?" This is the most loaded question you can ask anyone who ever left Israel. No one really leaves Israel after all. It's somewhat similar to Hotel California in that regard - You can check-out anytime you like, But you can never leave.
Writing about immigration, though I have already tried it once, is always tough, because it is a very emotional and ambiguous subject. There is no straight shining white line dividing right and wrong here. Some people think all immigrants are dirty-unlawful- terrorists, some immigrants think that they can half-immigrate - always with one suitcase packed, always "going back next year", some people think it is better to live in a closed community with "people like me", some people think it is wrong to immigrate, some people would really like to and "if only".
And most, I guess, will find what I wrote upsetting. It wasn't my intention. I wanted to say that when it comes to immigration, everyone has a strong personal opinion, belief, feelings.
"Really?"comes the next question, "so what do you think about immigration?" I really don't like answering this question, because I hate lying to direct questions, and I really can't give you my full sincere answer because I will have no readers left. What I can tell you is that it has changed dramatically after I moved here. In Gibraltar we had a "relocation package", and anyway Gibraltar is like no other place on earth with regard to its openness and acceptance, but we got to the UK as immigrants, and after walking a mile or two in these shoes, I can tell you that it is not an easy road to walk on. Nevertheless it is one that I am not sorry I chose, though there are nights (or moments in front of the mailbox) where I wish it was easier, kinder, more humane.

Defining yourself as an immigrant is a tough moment. Personally I love it, because it frees me from a great many things I don't like being or doing. It gives me wings, and the feeling of not-belonging. There is a certain freedom in not being part, that is hard to explain. But defining yourself as an immigrant is also the moment where you are conceding to being no-one, to having no home. As a parent you are supposed to give your children roots, and yet as an immigrant you will have none for yourself, maybe none to give. Even if we choose to live the rest of our lives in the UK we will not be really British. Even if we choose to go back to Israel tomorrow we will not be really Israelis anymore. We are free, but as the (Hebrew) saying goes "free is totally alone". Our only existence is as immigrants. This is our reference group. And sometimes when you stand in front of the mailbox with yet another official letter, it is not a good group to be in. Sometimes, when you open the newspaper and see that the Home Secretary is planning on "making life unpleasant" for you and people like you, it is not a good group to be in. Sometimes when you open Facebook and discover a series of short news-segments about "The New Leavers" which intends to explain why young people like us choose to leave Israel and instead perpetuates the inner conflict you are supposed to have as an ex-Israeli about that "ex", it is not a good group to be in. Sometimes you open Facebook and the Israeli Minster of Finance calls you a coward, a traitor, and denounces you as the lowest form of Jew - one who doesn't care about the holocaust, it is not a good group to be in.
"So why?" that same person might ask incredulously, "why do you do it?" because still, even with all the difficulties and heartaches and fear, it is a group I choose to belong to. It is the group I feel most comfortable with. Why? well, you might have seen the word "choice" show up a few times in this post. That's why. I am a big believer in choice, and I wanted to know that I chose every aspect of my life. It was always meant to be my choice. From the time I was very (very) young, I reached the conclusion that I don't do fitting in, I don't do closed communities, I don't do long-term commitments (well, except for Hidai and kids that is) and most of all I don't like being told what to do.
I am also very lucky, extremely lucky, to be able to live my life exactly as I choose.
And I chose freedom, I chose quiet, I chose adventures, I chose moving every few years and starting over. I love it, and so I am willing to pay the prices. For me, life is about finding the prices you are willing to pay. Sometimes those prices are very high. Sometimes those prices keep you up at night, sometimes they make you physically ill, sometimes they make you feel lonelier than you ever thought possible. Sometimes they make you feel guilty and sad and afraid.
"Is it worth it?" comes the last logical question. The only question I can answer simply. Yes it does. I wouldn't change a thing.