CAFOD blog

Some people ask me what it’s like in Pakistan. It’s a hard question to answer since the country varies so much from region to region, and because it’s hard to capture its many contrasts in just a few words.

Most of what people read in the papers about Pakistan will be linked to the military operations in Peshawar, or the bombings in Islamabad or Karachi, or maybe rising inflation and food and oil prices.

But there are other stories here too. The gentle cawing of crows. The jangling of brightly coloured trucks.

The splash of sugary tea being poured into a cup. The piles of fresh green mangos for sale at the roadside. And the jarring notes of a cycle-mounted ice-cream cart.

Here, I wear a headscarf in public, and I live my life behind curtains and screens. Even when I go to a restaurant I’m seated in a special “family” area, away from prying eyes.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in a shroud; like I want to rip away the veils and let the light in.

Other days I have a strange sense of freedom – of escape from London’s inhumane underground, of the constant intellectual pollution of advertising, and the obsession with property prices.

Posted by LucyM

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