Immigrant Song

You know the routine; I go to a concert, enjoy it tremendously and then unskillfully try to express to you a gleeful feeling of the experience by writing about how great it was. This time, I'm throwing you a curve ball. Yes, I went to a concert (Mashina) and yes, i enjoyed it very much but today I will talk more about why I keep coming back to this topic in my blog.
I'll start from afar. For the past few years of my life in United States, the music that I primarily listened to was by Israeli artists. Even though I didn't understand the words, I still felt connected to it. At some point it became tough to just dream about being close to the place that inspired it so, among others, I justified my Aliyah by a search for that music. I think that I was probably expecting it to disappoint me once I got here and since it on contrary exceeded my expectations, I keep reacting in an ecstatic way each time I get further proof of my justification for this love.
Mashina, Hadag Nahash (whom I also saw last week), Ehud Banai, Ivri Lider, Berry Sakharof have all been better than when I heard them in my Malibu. (By the way, Berry turned 50 last week. He's been performing since he was 16. When you do that in this business, you must be doing something extremely well, right?)
Also, let me go even farther in my explanation by recalling something that I heard from several former new immigrants. Apparently, there is this psychological curve of almost every oleh hadash. Emotionally they all start out real high. Then after a couple of months, the ecstasy of living in the Holy Land is replaced by tough reality and the gradual drop in happiness occurs. Then, somewhere between 7-12 months in the country, the low point is reached. Not much is fun and nothing bright is ever seen in daily lives. The challenge is to not give up at this point, they say, because if that period is endured and overcome, things get better and a certain happy equilibrium is reached. Not quite as high and definitely not as low.
Well, that's what they said and that's how it went. No matter how prepared one thinks he is to leave everything familiar, this phenomenon still occurs. What else can you expect? We are confused young people with no family in Israel and thousands of reasons to just go back. At exactly 7 months, the group that started Kibbutz Ulpan Ein Hashofet was falling apart. One Brazilian has already left and the other was on his way. Most of the Russians were seriously considering packing their bags and even yours truly couldn't dismiss the thought of a quick return. I'll be totally honest and admit that it was tougher than I ever expected. You miss your family and friends. You get annoyed by every little thing about this country. You don't want to see another face that does not belong to your loved ones. There is absolute doubt in every single step you take and future seems blurry as if it's surrounded by a thick fog. You know that somewhere out there is what you search for but you can't see it. Nothing is certain and you attempt to find consistency in any small part of your life. Turned out that for me there were several immovable objects. I'm lucky that way. I have an incredibly supporting family. I really can't ever thank them enough (so I don't even try). And I also have this music. Something that doesn't change even as I hear new songs. Something that is the light breaking through the fog all around me. Something that reminds me that regardless of anything, this country, this land, this inspiration is still here.