Karachi, Pakistan
02/01/2024
After getting at least some hours of sleep to recover from the trip, it was right into the action. Our first task of the day: get some nice clothing for the wedding ceremonies. Because as you must know, Pakistani weddings consist of multiple ceremonies:
- Mayoon: a pre-wedding tradition centred around the bride, where close family and friends gather for beauty rituals, singing, and blessings, symbolizing her transition into married life.
- Barat: The groom’s grand procession and formal arrival at the wedding venue, marked by celebration, dancing, and the official handover of the bride, making it the main wedding ceremony.
- Valima: The groom’s family hosts a post-wedding reception, celebrating the newlyweds with a lavish feast, formally introducing the bride to the groom’s extended family and community.
So to prepare for it all, we had to go shopping! We thus got into the cars – because you better don’t walk the streets1 – and drove to the nearby shopping centre Chase Value. A little observation on the side: at both Chase Value and the rooftop bar we would visit later, armed guards were posted at the entries.
Having only experienced empty Pakistani streets the night before at around 4am, it was a literal difference of day and night feeling all the buzz around us. Bikes, motorcycles, vans and horse/donkey-drawn carriages were going in all directions. Pedestrians crossing the streets.
A little excursion on traffic in Pakistan
Traffic in Pakistan is wild. Seriously.
While I have experienced chaotic scenes in Morocco and Latin American countries before, Pakistan was on its own level.
The night before, when getting picked up from the airport, we almost had a head-on collision with an old motorbike with 2 riders, no helmet, and no lights.
After both our driver and the motorcyclist - who was going in the wrong direction of the roundabout - did an emergency brake and then continued calmly on their way, Maisam explained that in fact, traffic is very safe in Pakistan, since due to no-one following any rules, everyone is paying way more attention than people would in Europe.
After crossing the main road by slowly inching forward, inch by inch, we made it to the Chase Value. There, we (the four male European friends of Maisam) – under fascinated looks from the locals – got matching vests for the ceremony, with the traditional Kurtas – or loose-fitting tunics – to be delivered based on our measurements. I also got a sleek grey vest that I really liked and at 1.000 Pakistani Rupees, I almost thought it was somewhat expensive for Pakistan, until I realised I had miscalculated by a factor of 10 and instead of 35€ it was only 3,50€.
So with the realisation of infinite bargains ahead, I started checking out the store. From nice ties for 1-2€ through pants including tailoring for 5-7€, the store had everything. The only thing we didn’t have was time, since a lot was planned for the day and the Mayoon ceremony was set for later that day, meaning we would have to get ready in time.
Admittedly, the panic was overblown. You might be aware that time is treated differently in different parts of the world. For example, when waiting for our taxi boat in Panama to get us to the airport on time, the exact time we gave was more of a rough guidance for them, leading to us being almost 45 minutes delayed and almost missing our plane. But that’s a story for another day. In Pakistan, we were hurried to get home and get ready for the ceremony, as we were told to be ready by 2pm. As Europeans, we treated this as a fixed time, I squeezed in a quick workout in the garden to the amused looks of the children next door, and was ready to go at the agreed time. It was only then that we realised that the 2pm departure time was more of a “we all meet at 2pm and sit around”-time, with us leaving only an hour and a half later. While due to my European attitude of using-every-minute and maximising efficiency I was a bit annoyed by this at first, it helped me to get more attuned to the culture in Pakistan. And, in any case, being too early for a wedding is much better than being late.
That being said, we had more than enough time to dress up nicely and get into the motorcade to bring us to Faiza’s (Maisams wife-to-be) home, where friends and family got together. One thing we noticed shortly after was the idiosyncratic city layout, which felt almost accidental — we passed from a block of gleaming mansions to one with makeshift tents, then a street overflowing with trash, only to land in another upscale enclave a minute later. Much in contrast to Western cities with a clear centre, it was less of a planned grid with a clear centre and more like a living, breathing mosaic where wealth and struggle exist side by side.
Once past the plethora of different sceneries, we arrived at Faiza’s home, located in a nicely kept and beautifully decorated gated community. Waiting for us were about 30 members of Maisam’s family, with whom we entered the home together.
For privacy reasons, I have not included pictures, but you can envision it as the men sitting on the floor, forming a half circle around Maisam and an Imam. The women were situated all the way around the walls of the room on seats of various types. The proceedings included signing of the official marriage documents, though Faiza would not move to Maisam’s place until the Barat ceremony a day later. We were served some snacks and then drove to a rooftop bar (without alcohol, of course) where we had some cai in a relaxed atmosphere. There even was a large sign for the “mocktail bar”-corner, though I would rather have had a proper drink, or at least a cold beer, if that had been possible.
After a while of chatting with Maisam and his local & international friends, we proceeded home, where the first night of celebrations would take place, featuring food and a lot of dancing.
A little side story about the food: Maisams family had ordered a caterer (it could have been some distant family member, too. Not too sure) to prepare mountains of fresh Seekh Kebab in the alley right next to the home, which smelled fantastic. I thus couldn’t help myself and did some “quality control”, i.e. ate 4 – 5 of those with some fresh bread, while most of the party guests were dancing. The food was spicy, but very tasty. The fun began about an hour later, when we were told that all Europeans would be served home-cooked food as a precaution for our sensitive stomachs, as they did not trust the street food all that much. Oops2.
It got later and later and I decided to send up my drone. While I wasn’t all that worried about the authorities caring all that much, the number of vultures and other birds of prey roaming the skies was sky-high, so I did not fly too far. I still managed to capture some nightly shots, though.
With it slowly getting late – in Pakistan, the day does not start before 10am really, but also does not end before 2am, we went to bed after a long night of dancing to get energised before the action-packed days ahead.
خدا حافظ
1: On a serious note – Maisam strongly advised against walking the city for safety reasons. We thus took the car to go any distance – the café half a kilometre away or a florist around the corner being no exception.
2: Spoiler alert: Me & my stomach were fine. At least that day.