My International Family is Now Even More International
Meet Hafiz (L) and Hammad (R), two amazing young men who I now call family. I spent an incredible week with them in Pakistan. Here we are dining with Lahore, Pakistan’s world-famous 350-year-old Badshahi Mosque in the background.
My family is a bit unusual, and not just because my wife says she’s married to a humor writer with the maturity of a 13-year-old (on a good day, anyway). No, what I mean by “unusual” is that I am the only native-born American in my nuclear family. My wife is from Canada. And we adopted both of our now-adult daughters from China when they were infants.
But many people may not know that in the past few years, my family became even more international. That’s because I have also two nephews from Pakistan. Okay, technically, they are not blood-related to me. But these two fine young men are absolutely part of my forever family. Their names are Hafiz (age 32) and Hammad (28).
Let me back up and explain. Back in 2020, I discovered Hafiz while doing an internet search for a video editor for my YouTube channel, View from the Bleachers. I needed help editing, adding background images, inserting photos, captions, and sound effects. I stumbled onto the profile of a young man from Lahore, Pakistan named Hafiz Ramzan. I had never heard of Lahore. A quick Google search informed me that Hafiz lived literally on the opposite side of the world – 12 time zones away.
After a few months collaborating on my YouTube channel, Hafiz had the idea for us to co-host a series of educational videos called Across the World. The premise was that I would interview Hafiz about life in Pakistan, and he’d interview me about life in the USA. In the process of this collaboration, Hafiz introduced me to his close friend, Hammad Hassan, who took over the role of conducting these Across the World video interviews with me.
Over several months, I learned more and more about these two intriguing young men and their fascinating culture. They are both devout Muslims. Both were university educated. Hafiz was more gregarious and entrepreneurial. Hammad was more introverted and soft-spoken.
As they became more comfortable with this American senior citizen whose life story had almost nothing in common with theirs, Hafiz and Hammad started opening up more with me. I learned that Hafiz had lost both his parents by the age of five and lived in an orphanage from age five through fourteen. I learned that both Hammad’s parents were university educated.
I explained to H and H that in America, when we pose for photos, we put our arms around each other and smile. I said, “This is an American pose.” After a couple days, when someone took our photo, Hafiz would remind Hammad, “Let’s do an American pose.”
Hafiz opened up about some of the worries and frustrations of being the parent of two very young, high-spirited toddlers. He is a deeply loving father. Hammad expressed his interest in getting married and even asked me for marriage advice. I told him to forget about the young woman in Glasgow, Scotland. Long story.
Eventually, Hafiz brought up the idea of meeting in person. It did not take long before I learned it would be almost impossible for a young, Muslim Pakistani male to get a travel visa to the United States. Too many red flags. The US Government would be suspicious of their intentions. The Pakistani government would fear they may leave and never return. I eventually realized that the only way we’d ever meet was for me to travel to Pakistan.
So, in late November 2023, I flew to Lahore, Pakistan to meet them. Lahore is a city of over 12 million people – more people than the combined population of New York and Los Angeles. After a 30-hour journey with a layover in Istanbul, finally at 5:05am in the morning, two days after I began my trip, I arrived at the Lahore International Airport. Exhausted and groggy, I worked my way to the arrivals gate. Once there, I could not believe my eyes. I stared out at a sea of unfamiliar faces – easily two thousand people – all with black hair, dark complexions, all the men with beards (as is the custom of Muslim men in Pakistan). I worried, “How in the world will I ever find my friends?”
Like a lost puppy, I searched in vain for several minutes for a familiar face. Then, from the crowd, I heard a distant voice shout, “Teem! (That’s how Hafiz pronounced my name.) Teem! Over here!” It was Hafiz, and right next to him, Hammad. I rushed over to meet my friends for the first time since I had met Hafiz via the Internet more than three years prior.
Even though my actual birthday was not for another month, Hafiz (center) and Hammad threw a surprise birthday party for me in my hotel room, complete with a birthday cake, balloons, and a tennis racquet as a gift. Notice how they are doing a real American pose, with the hugs and smiles.
In Pakistan, adult men do not hug other men unless they are family. But the moment I saw them, I gave them both what I later explained to them was an American-style hug. I suspect my bear hug startled them a bit. The day we had been waiting for, for three years, had finally arrived. Then in the airport parking lot, the Uber driver Hafiz had reserved could not get his car to start. Welcome to Pakistan.
If you would like to learn about the week I spent in Pakistan, you can watch a video of a talk I gave about my experience. On my first evening there, Hafiz invited me to dinner at his home – something that is virtually never done unless you are family or a longtime close friend. I even met his wife, albeit covered from head to toe in a burka, with only her eyes peering out through the small slit.
A couple days later, I was invited to Hammad’s uncle’s house. It was there I met his father, who had traveled three hours just to meet me. His father did not speak English. I didn’t speak Urdu. And Pakistani men don’t smile a lot around people they don’t know. And for sure they don’t hug other men (other than family). So, imagine my surprise when at the end of our two-hour visit, as I was saying goodbye in my fractured Urdu, I extended my hand to shake hands with Hammad’s father. Instead, he greeted me with a hug. I told Hammad this and he said, “my father is telling you, with that hug, that you are family.”
I am not a religious person. Hammad and Hafiz pray to Allah five times a day. I was over twice their age. But these two young men treated me with abundant kindness and respect the entire time. Whenever we walked through a door, they insisted on holding the door and letting me go first. Respect for your elders is important in Pakistan.
At the end of my brief trip, I realized that Hafiz and Hammad – like most people in Pakistan – seek the same things in life that any of us desire: happiness, safety and security for their family, and a life of opportunity for their children.
L to R: Hammad, me, Hafiz. This is the final photo we took, as I was leaving them at the Lahore, PK Airport to head home. It was a very emotional moment for me to say goodbye, not knowing when I might ever see them again.
Over the past five years, we have become very close. They call me Uncle Tim (which I love, I must say). I refer to them as my nephews. We do What’s App video calls at least twice a month now.
Our cultures and our everyday lives could not be more different. The roles of men and women in Pakistani culture are very different from America. Most marriages are arranged by the parents. The sounds, smells, and images of their world have few parallels to mine. And yet, the more time I spend talking with my nephews, the more convinced I am that our similarities far outweigh our differences. And the closer our familial bond has become.
One thing I know for a certainty. These two young men will forever be a part of my family. I’m still trying to find a way to help them get travel Visas to come visit America someday. For now, they remain across the world, 7,000 miles away. But they will always be right beside me, in my heart. – TEJ
[Postscript: For the past forty years, whenever I travel internationally, I take my trusty softball-sized teddy bear called Grumpy along for the ride. Pakistan was no exception. I have even written about my extensive Travels with Grumpy. It turned out that both Hammad and Hafiz LOVED playing with Grumpy. He became a source of endless entertainment for them.
When I returned home, I noticed I still had two of Grumpy’s best friends (Yellow Grumpy and Green Grumpy), which I had bought the same time I purchased my main (brown) Grumpy, back in 1981. They had sat quietly by my desk, next to my main Grumpy for over 40 years.
So, I decided, hey, why not send one Grumpy to each of them? Both Grumpies arrived exactly one month later, on the very same day. Hammad and Hafiz both sent me photos of themselves (above) holding their own Grumpies. Hammad is now in the UK, where he recently completed a master’s program in business and just got engaged. And he made sure to bring his Grumpy on his UK adventure for companionship. – TEJ]
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