At least I wasn't dragged from the place kicking and screaming

In 2006, I was doing some research in Laos, to the north of Thailand. I'd just finished my Masters, was in search of work and had been told I was a shoo-in for a couple of jobs in the Lao capital, Vientiane. Unfortunately, both jobs fell through, and I was left with a hefty credit card bill. But, just when I was hitting rock-bottom, a position opened up in Islamabad with an Irish NGO.

Knowing virtually nothing about Pakistan, I sat down in an internet cafe and started googling. Before long I'd developed a picture of a country which was run by a military dictator; was recovering from a devastating earthquake; was ravaged by poverty, inequality and religious extremism, and was fighting an insurgency in some godforsaken place called Balochistan. Before making my final decision, I consulted my parents. One of my father's colleagues had lived in Pakistan for 8 years. He loved it, and encouraged me to go. Fair enough, I thought, I can probably stick a “hell-hole” like Pakistan for 6 months to a year, by which time the credit card bill will be more than paid off; then I'll be back to the beautiful beaches, cold beer and delicious sea-food of South East Asia.

Upon arrival, I was surprised to find that the capital, Islamabad, was almost the opposite of what I'd expected - beautiful,  broad, tree-lined boulevards; well kept parks, nice restaurants offering excellent Pakistani and international cuisine (ignore this last part if you're from Lahore or Karachi), and bookshops on almost every corner in the market districts. It took me a few months to settle in and make friends, but once I did, Pakistan began to feel like home, and after a while, I discovered that whenever I left, I missed the place intensely.

When I told people I met overseas that I was living in Pakistan, the almost universal reaction was - “Are you insane? Isn't Pakistan one of the most dangerous and inhospitable countries in the world”? I would try to explain why I loved Pakistan, but it was always difficult. Even now I find it hard to articulate my feelings. Perhaps the only explanation for my attraction to Pakistan lies in the amazing energy the place exudes; an energy which is at the same time both spiritual and physical.

One of the most tangible ways in which this energy manifests itself is through the warmth of the Pakistani people. I have never come across people as hospitable as Pakistanis - who will, almost without exception - go above and beyond the call of duty when it comes to making visitors feel welcome - whether through an invitation for a meal, the offer of a place to rest your bones or simply sharing a cup of tea (or three).

This energy can also be felt at any Sufi shrine, where the devotees work themselves into a trance so as to become closer to God, or at a performance of Qawali music, where the audience is transported to a higher plane by the intoxicating devotional music. You can even feel this energy in the way people play, or simply follow cricket. A few years back, I saw Pakistan play Sri-Lanka in Lahore. The energy in the stadium was intense, and even when it became abundantly clear that Pakistan was going to be trashed, the home crowd continued to sing, dance and cheer; only now they appeared to be supporting Sri Lanka.

If, after reading this, you still have no idea what this hippy, new-agey“energy” I'm talking about actually is, make your way to any part of the Northern Areas - visit Fairy Meadows or Hunza - take a deep breath, have a good look around and then tell me you don't feel it.

On Thursday morning, after a 5-year stay, I boarded a plane and left Pakistan for my native Ireland. My friends joked about the fact that this is my third time to “leave Pakistan for good”. At least I left with my dignity intact. At least I didn't have to be dragged kicking and screaming through immigration with airport officials trying to pry my fingers from the railing separating me from the arrivals area. So, for the third time, I bid farewell to Pakistan, and remember, despite how Pakistan is portrayed in the media, you guys still have many dedicated fans, especially amongst foreigners who have actually taken the time to experience everything your country has to offer. Khuda Hafiz for now, but I do hope to be back in Pakistan in the not too distant future.