Naptown 13 - July Fireworks - 3. Altaf and Randy

July Fireworks

A Naptown Tale by Altimexis and David of Hope

Altaf and Randy

The interview with Altaf and Randy was held in the most unusual of places - the lobby of St. Vincent’s Hospital. Why the boys chose this particular place to hold their interview, I didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t the most convenient place, as I had to circle for some time before I found a parking place. There was no shade, so I knew my car would be hotter than blazes when I came out when we were done.

Exiting my car, I hiked for what seemed like a mile through the sweltering heat that radiated off the hot asphalt and the endless sea of cars as I made my way to the hospital entrance. Finally, I approached the long glass canopy that extended along the circular drive where people could pick up and drop off their loved ones. At last, I entered the building, where I was instantaneously immobilized by a blast of cold air. Boy did it feel good!

Heading down a long corridor, I approached the lobby, which was bathed in subdued lighting. I always thought St. Vincent’s had one of the most architecturally stunning lobbies of any hospital I’d visited, anywhere. Dominating the lobby was a large, terraced fountain that generated a pleasing sound of cascading water. Life-size statues of nuns feeding the masses completed the picture of tranquility.

I was early, but so were Altaf and Randy, as I spotted them easily. I liked the fact that they didn’t keep me waiting. Both boys grasped my hands and greeted me warmly before leading me to a secluded corner, where we seated ourselves.

“Do you mind if I record our conversation?” I asked as I took out my tape recorder and set it down on the small coffee table that separated us.

Both young men shook their heads and mouthed ‘No’ in unison.

“Very well, then,” I said, beginning the interview, “out of curiosity and before we get down to the real nitty-gritty of the interview, why are we meeting here?” I asked.

“Well, Harold, for one thing, my mother works here as a nurse manager in Pediatrics,” Altaf answered me. “And for another thing, we are meeting here as a sort of symbolic gesture. I am a Muslim and Randy is Jewish, and in case you hadn’t noticed, this is a Catholic hospital. We could have met in a secular place such as our school, or the library, or Borders Bookstore, where I work, but I thought it might be nice to meet in a religious institution that was neutral and that provides service to everyone. St. Vincent’s hospital does just that . . . it serves everyone, providing care to the sick, and yet it is neither Muslim nor Jewish. . . . It is neutral ground.

“As you know, the Catholic Church is not all that accepting of homosexuality, nor is the mosque where Randy and I often pray together, but when we enter these doors, it does not matter what Randy and I do together in our bedrooms. Here, we will be treated the same as anyone else. . . . We will receive equal treatment. I can think of no better place to hold this interview. . . . Can you?”

“When you put it that way, no, I can’t . . . but you just brought up an interesting point, Altaf. You said that you and Randy pray together at a mosque . . . one that does not accept your homosexuality. Why do you go there if you are not accepted?”

“Let me explain that,” Randy jumped in. “It was me that got Altaf to turn back to religion again. You probably remember a bit about his story from the last time you interviewed us, back in January, but he had no interest in his faith when I met him, and for good reason. He barely escaped Pakistan with his life, and his first love had been stoned to death for committing the ‘sin’ of homosexuality. But hatred doesn’t come from God . . . it’s an invention of humankind. Altaf needed to deal with his grief, and for that, I felt he still needed to be able to turn to God.

“I visited my rabbi, who put me in touch with the Imam at the Islamic Center. Although the official view of Islam may be that homosexuality is wrong, we are far from the only gay couple that prays there, and we are always warmly received when we attend the evening prayers. Everyone knows who we are and that we’re a couple, and no one speaks ill of us. There is an understanding . . . it essentially amounts to ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’. It’s not perfect, but we find acceptance there, and they even accept me, a Jew, because I come to pray to Allah, the one god.

“We also pray at my synagogue. We try to go every week.”

“How do you resolve the differences between your religions?” I asked.

“What differences?” Randy answered, “The bottom line is that we seek meaning in life and by always seeking to do justly, we serve God’s will. What we believe is unimportant . . . It’s what we do that counts. Prayer is just a mechanism by which we seek to communicate with God, but it serves our own interests more than anything.

“I feel sorry for those who put so much stock in prayer . . . as if prayer alone can solve the world’s problems. Not that there’s anything wrong with praying, but if you want things to happen, you need to get off your ass and make them happen, too. It’s like the smoker who prays for good health, and then is surprised when they get lung cancer. Pray for the willpower to quit smoking, but don’t expect God to rescue you if you’re not willing to help yourself.”

“Those are some pretty serious thoughts, Randy,” I replied, “and at odds with a lot of our readers. I’m not disagreeing with you at all, but this is the Bible Belt and a lot of folks believe in prayer, and mostly the same people who think that the relationship between you and Altaf is an abomination.”

“’Course they also think we’re already going to Hell, just because we’re not Christian,” Randy pointed out.”

“Hmm, you do have a point, there,” I acknowledged.

“Here’s something you can tell your readers. . . .” Altaf chimed in. “A lot of people around here believe they are following God’s chosen path . . . that they are following the only righteous way. They believe there is only one way to gain entrance to heaven. I think it very admirable they have found the one true path and I wish them luck, but I worry about the terrible burden they face. After all, they are lucky to have been born where they have easy access to the one true faith.

“However, what about me. I was born in Pakistan where there is such limited access to the one true faith. Most people in the world will never have any possibility of ever discovering the truth. Therefore, I think it is obvious that God wishes that those who have discovered the one true faith must go out into the world and evangelize their faith to the rest of the world before they can gain entrance to heaven. A lot of them are doing just that, but only a handful. It is such a terrible burden, but unless they do, they are letting down the vast majority of the world’s people, who were born without access to the truth.”

Altaf was saying this with such a serious look on his face, but Randy was doing everything he could to keep from bursting out laughing. It was so funny to watch the two of them, but we were getting so far off on a tangent from the purpose of our interview and I had to get things back on track.

“We’re getting so far off-track and we could spend all day talking about religion, and I do want to discuss the situation in the Middle East with you later, but I want to get back to talking about the two of you first.

“What would you say has changed in your relationship since the interview six months ago?”

Altaf jumped right in by saying, “I got my own set of wheels, so I can go anywhere I want and do anything . . . I’m more independent and more of an American teenager than I was back in December. Back then I was still adapting to America . . . well, I still am . . . but I was much more dependent on Randy during the last interview. Now, we are much more equals, but if anything, that has brought us even closer together. Being equals is much healthier for our relationship. I can do my own thing, as they say, but I’m with Randy by choice, and because I love him.”

“At the same time, we’re spending a lot more time on our studies,” Randy added. “We’re both going to be seniors next year, and we both want to study Medicine. We’ll both probably do Biology for undergrad, with a minor in Chemistry or maybe Physics. If there’s any hope of being together for the next eleven years . . . that’s four years of undergrad, four years of Medical School and at least three years of residency, if not a lot more . . . we absolutely have to ace our MCAT’s. . . . That’s our Medical College Admission Tests. We thought about taking one of those courses, but everything in those courses is on-line. It’s all a matter of discipline. We just have to hunker down and take practice test after practice test after practice test.

“We’re both pretty much straight A students, so if we can ace the MCAT’s and maintain our GPA’s, we stand a good chance of both getting into one of our top choices for college, together, and then we can apply to medical school as a couple, and then go into the couples match for residency.”

“You’re pretty sure about this couples thing, aren’t you?” I asked.

“This September, it will have been a year since Randy and I first met,” Altaf answered. “Randy is my best friend, my lover . . .” he said with a blush, “the center of my universe. He’s the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. He’s seventeen, and I will be seventeen next month. In my country, we would be old enough to marry if we were boy and girl. I love Randy with all of my heart, and want to spend the rest of my life with him.

“We have spent many nights talking about the future. We will both be doctors . . . we are not yet sure of the specialty, but whatever we choose, our fields will be complementary, so we can work together. Because of our work schedules, it will be difficult for us to adopt or raise young children, so we will adopt young teenagers . . . not that teenagers don’t need as much time or attention, but it would be a lot easier to work our schedules around them than around infants. We would particularly like to adopt young gay teens whose parents have rejected them. We can show them the love they so deserve . . . the love everyone needs in their life.”

“Wow,” was all I could say. “You’ve pretty much answered several of my questions, more or less. I do have to ask some variations on some of the things you said, however, and one of them is what each of you would look for in a life mate if not your present partner.”

“There is no other partner, period,” Randy answered.

Altaf grabbed hold of Randy’s hand and squeezed it gently and said, “Randy,no one can say that love will last forever. Believe me, I know. I thought that my life would be with Fareed, but the Imam of our village said that we were evil and sentenced us both to die by stoning. It was only because my ami, my mother, rescued me at tremendous risk to her own life that I am here today to be with you.

“Tomorrow, I could be in a car crash, or I could be shot while walking down the street, or an aneurism in my brain could burst. No one can say how long our lives will last. Please promise me that if something does happen to me, that you will go on and you will find a life with someone else. Please promise you will do this for me. It is what I want.”

Randy looked to be on the verge of tears as he said, “It’s not what I want to even think about, but of course I will go on and make a life for myself if something happens to you, just as I’d want you to do if something happened to me. I hope I could find someone kind and gentle, like you, but there’s absolutely no way I could find another you . . . not in a gazillion years.”

The two boys stared into each other’s eyes as they seemed to be communicating the most intense love I could imagine.

“On to something a bit lighter, what advice would you have for kids who are in the closet?” I asked.

“If there is a peer support group where you are, don’t stay in the closet . . . it’ll only eat you up inside.” Randy answered. “Of course, having a boyfriend helps a lot, but being out in general changes everything. What it amounts to is the ability to be yourself. No more hiding in the shadows. You can say what you think and date who you want, but the key is that support group. You can’t go it alone. You need a core group of other gay and lesbian kids who will be there for you, and straight kids who are accepting. The GSA provides that, so even if your parents aren’t cool with it, you won’t be alone.

“I only wish there had been a GSA in middle school. . . . Yeah, middle school is the real black hole with the whole ‘being a gay teen’ thing. I mean, I started to realize I was gay when I was thirteen, but I probably started thinking about guys and feeling confused about it when I was eleven. I had nowhere to turn. If there’d been a GSA in middle school and if it had been large enough and cool enough that you could join without people labeling you, it would’ve made all the difference.”

“Let me give you a different perspective,” Altaf broke in. “In Pakistan, being out is not an option at any time. I got caught at the age of fifteen and was sentenced to death by stoning. I first realized I was gay at the age of twelve and only avoided detection because of my own self-denial. The closet was my only protection. In the Third World, being gay is not accepted. It’s the closet, or the noose, so to speak.”

“A rather sobering perspective,” I added. Continuing, I asked, “If you had it to do over again regarding coming out or the like, is there anything you would have done differently?”

“Sorry, Randy,” Altaf began, “But if I could have done anything differently, I would have saved Fareed’s life. I would have been careful. If we hadn’t been caught, we could have made sure to always be discreet and could have lived our lives as young gay men. We could have gone to university in London and eventually emigrated, getting the Hell away from Pakistan, but staying together as a couple. This would have meant I would have never met you, Randy, but Fareed would have been alive today, and that would have been worth everything to me, even at the cost of your love. Please don’t hate me for this, as the same would have been true if the situation were reversed.”

“Altaf, I understand completely. Our love is strong, but nothing is more important than saving a life,” Randy answered his lover. “Your dedication to your first love makes me love you even more.”

“What aboutyou, Randy?” I asked.

“Actually, there’s nothing I would do any differently,” he answered. “My family was very supportive.”

“Moving on,” I said, “I’ve been asking the other couples about protecting young children from the risks of sexual predators, but I’d like to spend more time with you guys talking about your views on the Middle East.”

“Wait a minute,” Altaf once again broke in, surprising me. “Not that I condone sexual predators by any means, but you don’t know what sexual predation is in this country. In Pakistan, if a man wants to have sex with a little girl, or even with a little boy, there is virtually nothing standing in his way. Indeed, corporal punishment is very much accepted and expected there, and that can and sometimes does include what we would consider inappropriate sexual activities.

“Female genital mutilation is common in Pakistan even now, and this is seen as a good thing! By making girls incapable of enjoying sex, they are less likely to become victims of sexual predators. How twisted is that? . . . The sickest part is that a father can rape his daughter . . . of course it is illegal, but for the right price, the officials will look the other way . . . and when she comes of age, she will be put to death for having had sex outside of marriage.

“I say, tell every child what is and is not appropriate touching . . . no age is too young. I grew up hearing terrible things about America, but you are basically a country of laws and of justice. You were idiots to elect Bush, absolutely stupid to believe him when it came to Iraq and you have no business being there, but you’re basically a good people.”

“Well, speaking of the Middle East,” I began, “Altaf, you’re a Muslim, and Randy, you’re a Jew. How does that work?”

“Actually, we agree far more than we disagree. . . .” Randy answered. “However, we did have some tense moments that first time Altaf and his mom came to my house for Thanksgiving dinner. Boy, I thought we were going to have fireworks that day for sure. He was so nervous and implied to my family that he supported suicide bombings, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.”

“I’m totally opposed to terrorism in any form,” Altaf added with emphasis. The killing of innocent lives goes against everything I believe in. Now people do have a right to protect themselves, and Randy and I do disagree on the right of return . . . there is land inside Israel that has belonged to families for generations that is rightfully theirs . . .”

“And you could say the same thing about land that was taken from the Native Americans, or the Poles, or the Czechs or the Bosnians, and the list goes on and on.” Randy countered. “I think people have a right to be compensated for their losses, much as has been done with holocaust victims, but it’s not fair to repossess land from current land owners unless you can prove that they actively participated in or knowingly purchased land that was stolen from the former occupants. Otherwise, all of us would have to give up our land if we went back far enough.

“No, the best we can do is to draw the line at illegal settlements. Once Israel started building on the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, they violated their treaties and at that point were participating in theft, pure and simple. Anyone who built on the West Bank did so at their own risk. The settlements have to go.”

“That’s quite a disparate viewpoint for most Jews,” I commented to Randy.

“Hey, Israel has a right to live behind safe and secure borders, so why try to live outside those borders. Why be an occupying force? Why put themselves in the position of being seen as the aggressor? It goes against everything I believe in. That’s why I belong to J-Street, and that’s why I’ve given over $150 of my allowance to them so far.”

“That’s no small sum, but J-Street?” I asked.

“It’s a lobby organization for moderate Jews that forms a counter to the Orthodox juggernaut. J-Street’s purpose is to promote moderate views in the Middle East and to promote a peaceful resolution to the conflict. I believe that a Palestinian state is inevitable, and certainly preferable to the indefinite occupation and subjugation of the Palestinian people by the Jews.”

“What do you think about the treatment of gays in Israel?” I asked Randy. “How does it compare to here?”

“It’s not all that great,” he admitted. “Gay marriage won’t be happening anytime soon,” he chuckled. “The religious right pretty much has prevented any form of gay rights movement from catching hold there, and legislation is nonexistent. There are no domestic partner benefits, and even holding a gay pride parade has proven to be fatal.

“No, between the fundamentalist Christians, the fundamentalist Muslims and the Orthodox Jews, there are far too many people in the world who are willing to take a literal approach to interpreting Leviticus.”

“And on that note, I think you’ve given me a treasure trove of material for the article, and it’s time to bring things to a close.”

I then invited the boys and their families to the Star’s Fourth of July picnic. Since Altaf hadn’t been here for the Fourth before, I explained to him how the entire downtown area would be blocked off to traffic, and how there would be music and stage performances in the various parks and along the canal, capped off by a huge fireworks extravaganza. Altaf seemed to light up when I told him about it.

As expected, my car’s temperature was in the triple digits by the time I got back to it.

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