ISLAMABAD (APP) -- A Philippine journalist who recently visited Pakistan writes that the country is not painted in its true colors and has had its lion’s share of bad publicity largely due to a West-centric media.

Tals Diaz, after his recent visit to Pakistan writes in Philippine daily Inquirer that mention the name Pakistan and immediately you evoke feelings of fear and awe and its PR portfolio reads like an eternal caveat: a nuclear-powered, hardline Islamic nation under tightfisted rule.
Certainly not the winning combination to inspire an entry in the “Must See Places on Earth” traveler’s list.
Add 9/11 to that wicked equation, when Pakistan had become a victim of its own geography since the U.S. focused its ensuing so-called War on Terror on neighboring Afghanistan, and you will most likely dismiss the country as a dangerous land, he wrote.
“The only thing more dangerous, I believe, is perception that is bloated as truth. So what is the story behind the headlines:
What you won’t likely see on the news is the side of Pakistan that is far, far more worthy of being written about,” Tals added.
It is a side that is more gentle than hostile, blessed with a rich cultural heritage and civilization that stretches back for thousands of years, and some of the warmest, most dignified people you could ever encounter in a lifetime of traveling.
Behind the headlines, there are stories upon stories of fabled landscapes where ancient civilizations rose and fell, where the Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh and Sufi beliefs flourished for centuries, and where a great empire built architectural wonders that still stand to this day.
Many of these stories shall remain mysteries to be unraveled by those few who dare to roam.
A journey to Pakistan is panacea for the “been there, done that” kind of jaded traveler, as the country remains unsullied by the mass tourism that’s pervading many Asian destinations today, like Bali, Thailand or Cambodia and traveling as itself recovers a sense of purity, as you are left to discover the place without expectations born of a hundred others’ pre-marked itineraries.
A mighty art One of the most fascinating aspects of Pakistan’s culture is a vibrant art that has fused itself with everyday life.
Karachi, for one, is a moving canvas. Their masterpieces come in the form of eye-catching, ornately painted buses and trucks. I was craning my head to see these mobile art works that give new meaning to the phrase “pimp my ride.”
Imagine cement trucks painted all over with eagles and roses, very cool. (And yes, they are much more souped up versions than our own jeepneys).
Over at the beach by the Arabian Sea, we saw camels languidly strolling about, bedecked in a pastiche of colors.
Several vendors wearing traditional shalwar Kamiz peddled everything from freshly baked Naan, tea, kebabs, and jasmine flower bracelets.
Women in their kaleidoscopic headdresses sat serenely on benches, watching the thunderous waves crashing on the shore.
I later found out that swimming on the beach is not a custom in conservative Pakistani culture, and yet throngs of men and women gathered on the beach, in what’s perhaps one of the world’s oldest weekend pastimes, admiring the great blue beyond.
My favorite city in Pakistan, henna-stained hands down, is Lahore, the capital of the Punjab province near the Indo border.
Historically, Lahore was the cultural hub of the Mughal Empire, and its architectural vestiges are scattered throughout the city, sharing the limelight with Gothic Victorian and contemporary buildings to create a mood that shifts from modern to mysterious.
So you could be imagining yourself in a scene from the “Ramayana” one minute, and then discussing global politics over milk tea in a quaint little restaurant the next.
Rising sublimely like a crown jewel amidst a sapphire sky in this part of a city is Badshahi Mosque, considered one of the world’s great architectural wonders.
The mosque is also home to a Quran with 1,226 pages of spun gold. Islam remains as a great influence of Pakistani life, and here I see just how much this religion inspires such creativity and peace.
“90 percent Muslims believe that religion is a unifying force,” said former governor of Punjab province, Lt. Gen. Khalid Maqbool, in an interview.
It is a religion based on compassion, equality and tolerance. As I walked around the mosque awestruck by the ornately designed ceilings, two young boys came up to me and bashfully asked, “Why are you here”? I was a bit dumbstruck and could only lamely blurt out, “because it’s beautiful.”
They seemed bewildered at this, and consequently asked me if I was Muslim.
I said no, but before provoking further confusion, I said, “I’m supposed to take many photos to show them back in my country.” They seemed satisfied with this, and gamely posed for a photo before they scampered away.
Another must-see in the city is the famed Lahore Museum, which is in fact considered to be the best in the subcontinent.
There are artifacts here that date back to the Stone Age, a testament of a land that was once home to some of the world’s oldest civilizations.
Many of the art works on display are simply mind blowing, from carved ivory tusks depicting the life of Buddha, to miniature Sikh paintings, to Tibetan antique silver jewelry.
A very rare sight on display is the “Fasting Buddha”, a far cry from the hefty reincarnations of the Far East, as this peculiar statue shows a much bonier, sunken-cheeked version of the Enlightened One.
I was about to make a snaky side comment, but I suspected it already had enough of a ribbing.
Every sunset, a boisterous spectacle happens at Wagha, about 40 minutes away from Lahore’s city center and at the border between Pakistan and India.
Hundreds of men and women frenetically shout and cheer for their country as cheerleaders in their national colors wave flags around.
No, it’s not a football or cricket match, it’s the daily flag-lowering ceremony, a tradition that began in the late 1940s after the British had drawn a line separating the two countries.
The guards on both sides carry out a show that’s part-Broadway, part-Monthly Python as they try to outmarch, out-salute, and outperform each other.
It’s the fiercest display of patriotism yet, and I admit I actually got teary-eyed at the whole experience.
With such a beautiful and culture-soaked encounter at every turn, the question remains why the gross misperception.
A single action that occurred at the far flung, troubled regions (that are even difficult to penetrate) is picked up on TV, and the power of media is able to inflate it and convince many that the whole country is in conflict. (It’s something that even we Pinoys can relate too)
I asked a few key officials and Pakistani journalists about their thoughts on their warped global image.
“It is very unfortunate that it is viewed this way. Perception is very misplaced,” said a source at the Karachi Press Club.
“Pakistanis are very tolerant people, a few misguided people will think we are a nation of extremists.”
“When you go around New York selling a story about the positive side of Pakistan, no one will be interested. But with a bad story, everyone grabs it,” adds Major General Abbas of the Inter Services Public Relations Directorate (ISPR).
“From a distance, with an agenda, you misinterpret and twist, and give a spin of your liking. But most of the people who come here and I refer to responsible officers, when they visit us, interact, get into a dialogue and discussion, they completely understand. They go back to their governments and ask for increase of aid, and more dialogue,” Brigadier Muhammed Tariq Jilani of the ISPR likewise believes.
“It is the responsibility of those who come here and see things and when they go back, make an effort to correct the situation, to try to develop a better sense and understanding.”
“I did not think it a coincidence that I caught the Pangea Day film fest, a celebration which sought world peace through the power of film, on Pakistani cable. One line stood out for me: “See the world through another’s eyes.”
Perhaps the only way to gain a better cross-cultural understanding is to first challenge our fears wrought by perception.
The experience of finding beauty in the least expected of places not only transforms you, but makes you such a part of it that you bring the memory everywhere you go.
The strains of qawwali, or Islamic devotional singing, echo in the distance. In the fleeting moment, peace infuses the land.