Cathal King at his friend’s wedding in Quetta. Photos: Cathal King
The purpose of my visit to Pakistan in 2024 was to volunteer alongside my uncle, Fr Tomás King, who has worked there for over three decades. I wanted to immerse myself in a different culture and learn about local life to witness Pakistan’s rich cultural diversity and experience the warmth of its people. This entailed travelling across the country from major cities to rural mountainous regions and meeting rural communities, including the Parkari Kohli tribe.
After Karachi, I visited Lahore. Then, it was northwards to Islamabad by bus, a five-hour journey. From Islamabad, I travelled further north by car to join the scenic Karakoram Highway along the Indus River. My driver brought us through the towns of Chilas, Gilgit, Balakot, and Karimabad. We stayed for a couple of days in Karimabad, using it as a base to explore the Hopper Valley and the Black Glacier. The scenery was just incredible: snow-capped peaks, panoramic views of the Himalayas and stunning valleys. I got to meet the unique Ismaili community in Karimabad, where the atmosphere was less conservative and more calm. Women seemed freer in their dress code, and local people were friendly. However, there was a strong security presence due to the area’s proximity to the CPEC (China–Pakistan Economic Corridor), with many checkpoints and police escorts. The mountains and unique way of life had a profound impact on me.
In Quetta, I attended the wedding of a close school friend from our days at St Jarlath’s College in Ireland. Originally from Afghanistan, his family had moved to Quetta before settling in Ireland. Situated in a valley with arid mountain views, Quetta offered dry heat, which was a relief after Sindh’s humidity. There was a strong Pashtun cultural identity with unique customs and attire, such as the traditional shalwar kameez, complete with a waistcoat and a round, flat-topped hat called a Pakol. The atmosphere was conservative, with fewer women visible in public; those seen wore face coverings. Many Pashtuns view themselves as a unified community across Afghanistan and Pakistan, often disregarding national borders.
At my friend’s traditional Muslim wedding, the men and women sat in separate areas; I never even saw my friend’s bride. A small family ceremony was followed by a large banquet, where the men danced the Attan, a traditional Pashtun dance. There was no alcohol, yet the energy remained high late into the night.
Cathal King in Pakistan.
While in Quetta, I taught English to some kindergarten students (ages five to seven) in a local primary school in small classes of eight to ten students. Their resources were scant: one shared textbook for the class and no whiteboard. Other challenges included no electricity from 9 am to 12 noon, which made the classrooms dark and very hot. There was a heavy reliance on rote learning; many students memorised words without understanding their meaning. Students often spoke Urdu and other regional languages, showcasing impressive multilingual skills from a young age.
My uncle, Fr Tomás, runs the Joti Centre in Mirpurkhas, a centre for religious programmes, training, and gatherings for the Catholic community in Sindh.
Through his work, I met many Christian families and communities across interior Sindh, Lahore, Karachi and even Quetta. I witnessed my uncle’s work supporting local communities, particularly housing projects for tribal people whose homes are vulnerable to flooding. Seeing him help those in need first-hand was deeply moving. Everywhere we went, the church community welcomed us, often hosting us in parish houses or at priests’ homes.
Attending Mass in Pakistan was a powerful experience. In both cities and remote villages, people engaged with the service wholeheartedly - unlike in Ireland, where participation is more reserved. The congregations sang Urdu hymns with passion, accompanied by drums and shakers. Their deep connection to their faith was evident. Despite being a minority in a Muslim-majority country, Christians maintain a strong faith. Their dedication, even amidst societal challenges, is inspiring; they uphold their beliefs with pride and resilience.
Temperatures in this area reach up to 45°C in the peak of summer; daytime highs average 35–40°C. Night-time remains warm, with fans essential for comfort indoors. How difficult it must be for people without fans or air conditioning, especially with the mosquitoes! Climate change is impacting life in Pakistan. I witnessed heavy rain, which caused stagnant water to remain for weeks in many areas due to insufficient drainage and the soil retaining water. Pakistan’s monsoon rains have been growing more severe - the catastrophic floods of 2022 caused widespread damage. I saw glacier shrinkage in the northern mountains, the impact of this becoming increasingly visible over the past two decades.
The Parkari Kholis live simply in rural villages of small mud-and-straw huts of one or two rooms. Their homes are surrounded by farm animals such as goats, chickens and cattle, reflecting their agrarian lifestyle. Meals are often cooked on simple ground stoves, using traditional methods, with the staple food being roti and dal. The Parkari Kholi speak their own language, Parkari, though many also know Urdu. Women’s clothing is colourful and patterned, reflecting a rich cultural identity. The Parkari Kholi are often viewed as low caste, resulting in discrimination and economic hardship. Some have been victims of “bonded labour”, a modern-day form of slavery that sees them trapped in cycles of debt and poverty. Added to this is limited government support, systemic corruption, and feudalism. Despite their hardships, the Parkari Kholis are known for their warmth and generosity, always ensuring guests are well-fed and welcomed.
Cathal King, nephew of Columban Fr Tomás King.
Related links
- Read more from The Far East - June 2025
