Friday morning in Raanana. David Peretz, 19, rises after prayers, his prayer book still open to Aleinu ("it is our duty to praise God"), the last song of the morning prayer. He folds his tefillin, sits down at his laptop and switches on a song medley by popular Israeli singer Eyal Golan. "This is what changed my life," he says in broken Hebrew, with a heavy French accent. "Singers like Eyal Golan, Dudu Aharon, Omer Adam, Shlomi Shabat and Amir Benayoun -- thanks to them I made the most important step of my life. It is thanks to them that I am here in Israel, and thanks to them I am enlisting in the army now." Peretz was born in Martinique, an insular region of France located in the Caribbean, not far from Venezuela. His parents, Joel and Michelle, both Jews, immigrated there more than 20 years ago. His father was born in Morocco, traveled to France and ended up in Martinique doing contract work. His mother was born in France to a Tunisian family. She met her husband in France and followed him to Martinique and now works at his construction company. David is their middle child. His older sister, Jessica, is studying medicine in Belgium. His younger sister Shirel is a middle school student. "You have to visit Martinique," he says with an enormous smile. "It is like heaven. Life there is very good. Every day there is sun, beach, summer. Worst case scenario there is a little rain, but it never cold. Life there is very easy -- no stress. The pace is very slow, not like here where everything goes so fast, now, immediately. "It was easier with money too," he says. "We lived in a neighborhood where all the Jews live -- about 400 Jews -- but not everyone is religious. Personally, we weren't strictly religious, we were more traditional. We observed Shabbat and ate kosher food but I never wore a kippah. "It is not easy to be a Jew there. There is a synagogue and kosher food brought over from France and sold next to the synagogue, but there are not a lot of Jews. There weren't a lot of Jewish children my age. When I was younger I only had three or four Jewish friends. When you grow older, that just isn't enough," he said. "I had a childhood that other people can only dream about. My mother didn't work and she was with me and my sisters all the time. We had a big house with a pool, and we would spend a lot of time at the beach and barbecuing in the yard. It was lovely, but deep down I knew that this wasn't the place for me. I knew that it wasn't my home, not my land, not my people. At school there were almost no Jews. There were also big differences between me and the other kids. Most of them were dark skinned -- I and two others were the only white people. I had non-Jewish friends, but our friendship boiled down to a hello at school and some soccer in the neighborhood -- they weren't real friends because we were different. I saw and felt that they weren't like me. "Weekends were on Sunday, and Saturday was a half day at school. I didn't go to school on Saturday, and I always had to make up the material. When they went out to eat I couldn't go with them because we kept kosher. I almost never went out to eat. There was no such thing as grabbing a burger for me. When they wanted to go out on Friday night, I didn't go because my family observed Shabbat and I couldn't even explain to my friends what Shabbat was. "I didn't know why I was Jewish. I knew that there was Shabbat, but I didn't know what it was good for. My father would pray, and I would repeat after him but I was just saying words without understanding what I was saying. Anyone who met me immediately said, 'You are Jewish' -- I don't know how they knew. I never wore a star of David or a kippah, there was no external indication, but people could immediately tell. It is something that is hard to explain. We were thousands of miles away from Israel, and still...." The turning point came when Peretz was 16. "One day I went online and searched for stuff about Israel. One of the first things I found was the song 'Israel' by Eyal Golan. I said to myself, 'Wow, what a beautiful language!' I was drawn to the rhythm and the lyrics. From there I went on to search for similar music, and I found Dudu Aharon and Omer Adam. It was amazing. I was drawn to it." This music -- a genre known in Israel as Mediterranean music -- became a meaningful part of Peretz's life. "I listened to Mediterranean music all the time. My parents couldn't understand what I was going through. They said to me, 'You don't understand the words, so why are listening to that all the time-' After a while I could recite the words from memory. My father, who knows a little Hebrew, was impressed. He said I was really speaking Hebrew. But I was just repeating the sounds I heard, I didn't understand what I was saying." "At one point it got on their nerves. I would put Dudu Aharon and Omer Adam on the speakers and dance. In the street I always had my headphones on. One of my friends once asked to listen. I gave him my headphones and after a minute he took them off and said to me, 'What is wrong with you? What is this music? What are you, Muslim-' "Every time I came across a word that sounded beautiful to me I would go to the computer and translate it. That way I learned more and more words. I learned a lot, especially words about love. Most of the Mediterranean songs are about love, apparently." "In any case, my bond with Israel grew stronger. I started to come together, as though something that was missing suddenly came into place. Eventually I told my parents that I wanted to go to Israel. My father didn't understand where this was coming from. He said to me, 'There is nothing for you there. You have no family, no friends, nothing. What are you looking for-' He said that there was nothing to discuss until I finished high school. But I didn't give up. I waged an actual war. I acted out. I didn't do well in school. I didn't take tests. I talked about wanting to go to Israel incessantly. I talked about it with the family. We even fought about it, with yelling and everything. "I decided that I want to join the army. We knew about the Israeli army from the television -- we saw that there was always war in Israel. I knew that it wasn't like that all the time, but that is what you see on TV in Martinique. My parents fought me, again. They said, 'What is wrong with you-' and told me it was difficult and dangerous and that I didn't have to do it. But I was stubborn. I explained to them that I am Jewish and that Israel is our land and that is what I want to do. Slowly the resistance began to wane. They realized that it was really what I wanted." Q: Do you have an explanation for why you wanted this so much? "I know that I am a Jew, and I wanted to live among Jews. In Martinique you are at home, but it is not your home. I had a big beautiful house, a good life, a family, everything was fine, but I wasn't comfortable. I prefer living in a small house in Israel, with Jewish friends I can talk to. A place without money, but with a sense of belonging. Israel is beautiful, the language is beautiful, and there is the Mediterranean music that I love so much." A difficult goodbye Peretz began the process of making aliyah. "There is a rabbi named David Mamo who lives in Israel and travels a lot between France and Martinique, mainly to bring Jews to Israel. He is very well known where I come from. I told him that I wanted to come to Israel, and he suggested that I join the group of young people my age who were moving to Israel from France. I immediately jumped at the opportunity. I was very excited. My parents already knew that resistance would be useless. They thought that I was taking a trip and coming right back, but I knew that I was going to stay. "When I left, they were sad, even though they thought I was coming back. Saying goodbye to family is not easy. On the plane I had a hard time, I even cried a little. I knew that I was going to a new place, without parents, without friends, without family, just a passport and a suitcase. That's it. But coming to Israel was my dream." When the plane touched down at Ben-Gurion International Airport, David Perez, now David Peretz, was moved to tears. "I walked out of the terminal and said to myself, 'Wow, how beautiful! There are Jews everywhere. Everything is kosher!' I ate tons of hamburgers at tons of places. I could eat everything! I couldn't stop eating. It was amazing." Peretz joined a group of young French people who came to Israel with the Masa program and was sent to live in Efrat, in Gush Etzion. He spent most of his days at an ulpan learning Hebrew and studying for university entrance exams. About a year ago, while visiting friends in Raanana, he met Laura, who quickly became his girlfriend. "It was divine intervention, there is no other explanation for the way I met her. We got off the bus at the same stop and I helped her with her suitcase. We didn't talk, just hello and thank you. Two weeks later I accidentally met her again in Jerusalem. We were in a large group of French friends. We immediately remembered our encounter on the bus in Raanana. It turned out that she had just come from Marseille. "We exchanged phone numbers and we've been together ever since. We've talked a lot about our worldviews, our relationship with Israel and our outlooks on religion. She suggested that I attend the hesder yeshiva Heichal Eliyahu in Kochav Yaakov, north of Jerusalem. She said that it suited my views in terms of religion and Zionism. "I called and talked to the head of the yeshiva, Rabbi Nahum Botschko, and I told him my story. I told him that I wanted to study at the yeshiva and enlist in the army and he said immediately, 'Come on, it will be a pleasure.' The yeshiva was also heaven sent. I met many good rabbis, made new friends and learned a lot. I always knew that I was a Jew, but I never knew what it really meant. Now I know that we are special, that we are the chosen people. That to be a Jew is not like belonging to other peoples. "Thanks to the yeshiva studies, I started to become myself. I feel better about myself. I am more whole. I know the importance of the land of Israel and how important it is to serve in the military because this is our country." Botschko explains: "Our yeshiva is a hesder yeshiva where you study and then enlist in the army and then return to studying in the yeshiva. Most of the students are Israeli but we have a project in cooperation with the Masa program and we warmly welcome new immigrants, mainly from France. We get about 20 new immigrants from France every year. "David called me and said that he wanted to study and get closer to Judaism. I told him to come for a trial and we'll see if he is serious and if he is able to integrate into the atmosphere of Torah study and preparation for the military. He came midyear, and it looked like he had just come from the beach. He was a little in shock at first, but he adjusted quickly. He participates in class, he is deepening his knowledge of the Torah and connecting with the people of Israel. He fit right in." Botschko was not surprised to learn of Peretz's great love for Mediterranean music. "Many French people who come to us are more traditional and less religious. They have Internet and television and they listen to popular music. For him, that is the link that brought him to Israel." Three months ago, Peretz rented a little apartment in Raanana with a friend, with the help of the IDF. During the week he stays at the yeshiva in Kochav Yaakov, and on weekends he goes home to Raanana. After he enlists he will spend the first three months at a base polishing his Hebrew and knowledge of Israel and then he will join the ultra-Orthodox Nahal Haredi combat unit. "My rabbi commended the Nahal Haredi. I was told that it was easier to observe religion there. There is kashrut, modesty and they still do combat duty. I want to be a fighter. I want to defend our country. It is like having a girlfriend and wanting to protect her. This land is our girlfriend." Peretz keeps in touch with his family back in Martinique. "It is a little difficult because of the time difference, but we talk on WhatsApp, Skype, any way we can. It is hard to be without them. It is not just that I am alone, but I don't have any family. "I would love for them to move to Israel, but it is impossible. I hope that they will come when I get married. It will apparently only be after I complete the army. Luckily I have my girlfriend and I have friends and I am putting down roots. I want to be here and stay here. I am not going back to the Caribbean." Q: Are your parents afraid now that you are joining the army? "Yes, they see a lot of reports on television about what is happening here and they worry. They think it is dangerous. But this is what I want to do and I am at peace with it. My dream is for my father to come and see me in uniform. I know I am going to be a lone soldier, it won't be easy. But this is a dream come true for me." Peretz's broken Hebrew does not stop him from singing all the words to Omer Adam's "She Just Wants to Dance" or "Terminal" by Dudu Aharon. He barely listens to news, and he has no idea that the country is up in arms over perceived discrimination against the Mediterranean genre. "If there are people who don't like Mediterranean music, it is their loss. It is the best. The language, the words, the accent, the rhythm -- there is something about it. His growing religious observance has changed his attitude toward some of the songs that he loves. "Until now I didn't understand the words at all. I didn't know, for example, what 'look at all the homos around' meant. Now I know it is about homosexuals, so maybe it is less appropriate for a religious man. But I don't have a problem with most of the songs. There are a lot of songs about love and there is no problem with love. On the contrary, it is a positive thing. "I know that Mediterranean music has done nothing but good things for me. My rabbi says that God sent it to me and it brought me to Israel and closer to religion. I am getting more religious, and I am going to the army, all because of the music. "It is true that until a year ago I lived on a beach in the sun without worries and I was having fun, and now we are standing a few yards from where people were stabbed, but I prefer to be near a terrorist attack in the land of the Jews than on the beach in the sun far from the Jews," he says. "I want to serve as an example for anyone who is thinking about immigrating to Israel -- look, it is possible and it is not at all scary."
