Respect Opens Doors: What Traveling Through Pakistan Showed Me About Humanity
From Lahore to Islamabad to Bahawalpur, it was never just about the place, it was about the people, their faith, their culture, and the way hospitality makes you feel like family
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Table of Contents
The Risk and the Reason
In November 2023, I boarded a flight to Pakistan, just one month after the October 7th war broke out between Israel and Palestine. Rightfully, a lot of people were concerned for me. They thought it was a terrible time to travel to a Muslim majority country. Some people warned me flat out. “You’re going to get kidnapped.” “You’re crazy.” “It’s not safe.” I heard it all.
But I’ve always been someone who moves through the world by instinct. I’ve been to rough places before. I’ve lived through tough things. I know that respect and sincerity go a long way, no matter where you are. And deep down, I felt this trip would be one of those life trips you never forget.
They didn’t need to worry. What I experienced in Pakistan was peace, generosity, beauty, and connection. I was accepted, embraced even and I brought that same energy back with me.
People hear “Pakistan” and picture something else. They don’t see the people. They don’t see the warmth. I’m not Pakistani. I’m a white, Jewish American guy. I stood out. My skin, my clothes, everything about me was different. I wore jeans and jerseys, not local attire. Still, everywhere I went, people welcomed me.
The Wedding That Brought Me
The reason for my trip was simple: my close friend Hanzla was getting married in his hometown of Bahawalpur. He had worked with me in tech for a couple years and we became close. When he invited my wife and I to come witness his wedding, we said yes without hesitation.
But to make the most of the trip, I decided to spend time in other cities too. We weren’t going to fly half way across the world for only 3 days, so we decided to make the most of it, and booked two weeks. We wanted to experience Pakistan for real, not as a tourist, not through social media, not from behind a screen. We wanted to walk the streets, meet the people, and see it with our own eyes.
Landing in Lahore
Anthony and Loriel Alegrete with Abdul and Ruhma and brother overlooking Badshahi Mosque
The first city I touched down in was Lahore.
In Lahore, we stayed with Abdul Rahman. He worked at the same company as the groom. I had never met him in person, but from the moment I arrived, he treated me like family. He welcomed us into his home in the section of Lahore called ‘Walton Road,’ a busy part of the city and made sure everything was taken care of.
Abdul’s wife was kind and generous, and their daughter, Eileen, was one of the most peaceful babies I have ever been around. That little girl didn’t cry once. She just observed everything with her big, wise eyes like she had already been here before. Not an exaggeration. She was something special.
They showed us the city. One of the first stops was a place I wasn’t expecting: a replica of the Eiffel Tower. That’s right, in Lahore, there’s a version of the Eiffel Tower that looks and feels like the real one. It was a trip.
Another highlight was the Wazir Khan Mosque in an area called Delhi Gate. That mosque dates back to the 1600s, still standing strong, intricate tilework and all. I’m not Muslim, but I always show respect when I step into someone else’s sacred space. So I came in peace, took my shoes off, and quietly observed the beauty of it. You feel the weight of time in places like that. You can’t help but reflect.
We also visited outdoor markets, crowded food stalls, and spice stands where the smells hit you before you even get close. Real animals. Some live, Some not. Chickens, goats, you name it, all being prepared fresh. And by fresh, I mean: you point to the live chicken, and 30 minutes later you’re eating it. That’s how it works there. It was the best chicken I ever had, hands down!
Anthony Alegrete riding through the streets of Lahore, Pakistan on the back of a motorcycle
The driving in Pakistan is nuts. Lol. It’s organized chaos — a full-blown sensory workout. There’s no rhyme or reason to how people drive. Dust in the air, horns blaring like a DJ battle, and traffic that runs on pure instinct. Rickshaws weave through everything like they’re in a video game. Motorcycles? Not just for two people — they’re family sedans now. You’ll see entire families packed onto a single bike. Babies and all. My wife and I made a game out of it: Who could spot the most people on one motorcycle? I hit the jackpot with six. No lie. Six people on one bike. I couldn’t believe it. We laughed, shook our heads, and I tried to act like a local and keep it moving.
If you need things sterile and calm, Pakistan’s not for you. But if you can roll with the flow and show respect, people open their arms to you.
In fact, people were staring at me constantly. I stood out. Not just because I’m white. But because I wore American clothes, jeans, jerseys, and sneakers, while everyone else wore traditional Pakistani clothing. I was like a walking billboard for the West. And I leaned into it.
People treated me like a celebrity. I’m not joking. Folks would stop me, ask to take pictures, shake my hand, ask questions. It got to the point where even my wife was like, “Let’s go!” and I’d be like, “Hold up, my fans need me.” I put extras on it and super leaned into it. It was hilarious.
But at the core of it, I knew why they were curious. I was clearly not from there and instead of being fearful or rude, people were welcoming. All I had to do was put my hand over my heart, smile, and say, “As-salamu alaykum.” That simple gesture would disarm even the hardest stares.
From Lahore to Islamabad
After spending several days in Lahore, we made our way to Islamabad.
My friend Muddassar hosted us there. He had been someone I worked with on Zoom for months but had never met in person. And just like Abdul, he made sure we were taken care of the moment we arrived.
Islamabad felt different. A little more sophisticated. A little more modern. The streets were wide. This was their metropolis. There was a mall that looked just like one you’d find in any American suburb. We went inside to shop and ended up getting smoothies, and the man behind the counter gave them to us for free, just because we were guests in his country.
I remember thinking, “That would never happen in the U.S.” But in Pakistan, hospitality is built into the culture. People want to feed you, take care of you, make sure you’re good. That’s just how it is.
We visited a local natural history museum that completely blew my mind. Life size sculptures of animals, people from ancient eras, dioramas going back thousands of years. It was like walking through a time capsule. It reminded me of the natural history museum back home in Los Angeles.
Anthony Alegrete at the Faisal Mosque, Islamabad, Pakistan
One of the most powerful experiences in Islamabad was visiting the Faisal Mosque, the second largest mosque in the world. The only mosque larger is in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. The scale of it is hard to describe. Massive courtyards. Towers rising high into the sky. And inside, no air conditioning, but somehow the architecture keeps it cool. It’s a design work of art, not just for visuals but for air flow too.
There’s a special kind of white stone laid in part of the courtyard. You walk on it barefoot, and despite the heat, the tiles are cool. These stones are called Makrana marble, and they’ve been used in sacred Islamic architecture for centuries. Walking on them, in that space, barefoot, in silence, was unforgettable.
At the Faisal Mosque, there’s a rule — if you’re Muslim, you can’t go inside until it’s officially prayer time. That’s just how it works. We got there before prayer time, which meant no one was allowed in yet. We were standing in the massive courtyard, just taking it all in. The place is jaw dropping. The scale, the design, the calm. Then out of nowhere, one of the mosque caretakers walks over to us.
He looked straight at me and Loriel and asked, “Are you Muslim?” I told him no. He smiled and said, “Good. Then I’ll give you a tour.” It was wild, if we had been Muslim, we would have had to wait just like everyone else. But because we weren’t, and because we were his guests, he said it was his obligation to bring us in and show us around.
Talk about hospitality. He wasn’t doing this as part of some official thing. There were no tours happening. He did it because he saw us, and he felt it was his duty to welcome us. He took us on a full private tour, brought us to the upper level where you could overlook the entire mosque from above, and gave us space to really absorb it all. It was a moment I’ll never forget, just one more example of how deeply kindness is built into the culture.
Murree, Daman e Koh, and the place Bin Ladin was captured
Anthony and Loriel Alegrete with Muddassar in Damanekoh, Pakistan (Right outside of Islamabad)
From Islamabad, we decided to take the scenic route. And I mean really scenic. Instead of the main highway, we drove through the mountains, winding our way up through a hill town called Murree. It felt like driving through the middle of nowhere, but in the best kind of way. The kind where you roll the window down, breathe in the air, and say nothing because the view says it all. Fog creeping in. Mountains stacked around us. And wild monkeys running around like they owned the place because honestly, they kind of did.
Before all that though, we went to Daman e Koh, a viewpoint right above Islamabad that gives you a full panoramic view of the entire city. You see the Faisal Mosque from up high, the grid of the city below, the hills stretching out in the distance. It’s peaceful up there but also alive. Monkeys everywhere, locals enjoying the breeze, and vendors selling snacks. It was one of those quiet, still moments where you just let the place speak for itself.
After Daman e Koh, we headed to this mountaintop restaurant called Monal. This spot sat way up above the city, overlooking everything. The food was incredible, and the view? Unreal. It reminded me of Yamashiro in Hollywood. Same vibe, same energy. A big, elegant place with a backdrop that made every bite taste better. But here’s the wild part: that whole restaurant is gone now. Torn down. Apparently the owners built it on protected land, part of a national park, and it was illegal. So they leveled the whole thing. Hearing that hit me in a weird way. It was such a special place, and just like that, it’s gone. Glad I got to see it before it disappeared.
Anthony Alegrete Pulls Up to Bin Laden’s Old Neighborhood Like It’s No Big Deal…lol
Eventually, we made it to Abbottabad, the city where Osama bin Laden was captured. We stood in Bilal Town, near where the compound once was. I shot a short video. It was eerie. You could feel the history in the air. I joked that they probably hadn’t seen a white person since the Navy SEALs.
What was the point of coming all the way to Pakistan if I wasn’t going to go and see places most people have never been to?
The Heart of Bahawalpur
Anthony & Loriel Alegrete, Hanzla & Poppa Hanzla at his marriage in Bahawalpur, Pakistan
The final stop was Bahawalpur, where Hanzla’s wedding would take place.
From the moment we arrived, the hospitality went to a new level. His family took us in like we were their own. They made sure we had food, clothing, everything. His parents, who we nicknamed “Poppa Hanzla” and “Momma Hanzla” were the glue. They ran the show, and they did it with grace.
On the first day, we were starving. Hanzla took us to a cluster of street vendors where you literally choose your chicken, and they kill it, skin it, and serve it to you. Momma Hanzla cooked it within 30 minutes of this happening. That meal? Probably the best chicken I’ve had in my life. No hormones. No processing. Just real food.
Anthony Alegrete gets lost on the streets of Bahawalpur, Pakistan
One moment I’ll never forget: I got lost. I was trying to find a bookstore, wandered off on foot, and ended up completely turned around. Cell service wasn’t great, and I was in a part of town that all looked the same. Out of nowhere, a guy on a motorcycle pulled up. “Where are you going?” he asked.
I told him. He said, “That’s the opposite direction. Get on. I’ll take you.”
And just like that, no hesitation. I jumped on the back of a stranger’s bike, and he drove me across town.
That moment says everything about Pakistan. Respect people. Show love. And they’ll take care of you.
The wedding itself was a three day affair. Day one for the bride, day two for the groom, and day three is when they come together. Those days are traditionally called Mehndi, Baraat, and Walima.
I wore custom made Pakistani outfits from a brand called My Morni. We had these custom made in the states because the owner is a friend. When we walked in, everyone stared. Our fits were so on point, people actually thought we were the bride and groom. That’s how sharp we looked.
Anthony and Loriel Alegrete in MyMorni Custom Pakistani Attire with Ahnaf & Adina.
There was dancing. Music. Family. Laughter. Tradition. It was sacred and joyful all at once.
The Raw Parts
Let’s not romanticize everything, though.
The beds? Rock hard. Like a pool table. Maybe worse. I don’t know what it is about the beds but they are hard as a rock. lol…
The bathrooms? Most homes don’t have toilets in the Western sense. You squat over a porcelain hole in the floor, clean yourself with a hose, and that’s that.
The showers? No tubs. Just a faucet on the wall. When you bathe, the whole room gets wet. That’s just the setup.
And the pollution? It’s real. The air is thick. You feel it in your lungs. That’s the one thing I truly struggled with.
But those things are small when compared to what I gained. These things made the trip memorable.
What I’ll Never Forget
On the back of a Rickshaw, Delhi Gate, Lahore, Pakistan reflecting on the blessing of travel
This trip taught me how much propaganda exists. We’re told to fear what we don’t know. To avoid unfamiliar places. But often, it’s the people in those places who end up teaching us the most.
In Pakistan, I was treated with nothing but love. Not because of what I looked like, but because of how I treated others.
So here’s what I’ll remember:
- Saying “As-salamu alaykum” with my hand on my heart and watching people’s eyes soften
- Seeing the Faisal Mosque shine against the night sky
- Watching monkeys run through the hills of Murree
- Laughing as strangers asked me for autographs like I was a celebrity
- Eating a fresh chicken that was alive 30 minutes before
- Jumping on a motorcycle with someone I had never met
- Being welcomed as a brother by families I didn’t know
- Sharing laughter with everyone
- Enjoying being with Loriel and making our inside jokes everywhere we went
- Dancing all night at Hanzla’s wedding
I’ll remember Eileen’s big quiet eyes. The marble tiles under my feet. The sound of a call to prayer echoing through the air. The organized chaos of the streets, where rickshaws, motorcycles, and cars moved with no rhyme or reason — and somehow, it all worked.
This trip changed me.
I hope one day I get to go back.
Mere Yaar Ki Shaadi Hai
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Anthony Alegrete (C) 2025
Father, Provider, Builder, Brand Maker, Sales Closer