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This is a crazy story and has prompted me to start a blog. This is the story of how I as a New Zealander ended up in a room in Peshawar, jamming saxophone with some Pashtun musicians and how it led to us getting onto national television. But before we get to that, let’s talk about how we got to Pakistan in the first place.
I was living in Japan about 2 months prior to this. Miserable. Dealing with the constant abuse from grumpy strangers as well as the unbearable Kansai summer heat. With no gigs, barely any jam sessions and not much going for myself, I had regretted my decision to move to Osaka to pursue music, and was at the point of giving it up entirely.
One day I had enough of living there and signed my move out notice. I then started making grand plans on where to travel. Mongolia came up (story for another time) then Pakistan came up. I had seen so many Youtube videos of people going there and being treated with the most amazing hospitality, and strangers being extremely kind, warm and welcoming despite what you see in the media of the country. It instantly caught my attention.
At this point in my life and mind, I was not interested in playing the sax much and wasn’t thinking that I’d play much on my journey. However my philosophy was that I’d bring it just in case and see what happens. I was not expecting to play in Pakistan at all.
The day came. I landed in Islamabad on the 12th of September after 30 hours worth of flights and waiting around. It was dawn but there were massive drafts of heat and stench as I stuck my head out of the run down Suzuki Alto taxi. I loved it from the very first day.
Originally I was planning on staying a couple nights then going up to Hunza, but unfortunately there was a lot of flooding and landslides at the time that were blocking most of the roads, making it inaccessible. I decided to take the trip to Peshawar instead.
A two hour bus ride and I landed in a completely different place to Islamabad. Super rustic, extremely conservative with a heavy military presence. The streets of Peshawar had an intimidating atmosphere compared to the clean and green streets of Islamabad.
After spending a couple days wandering around places like Qissa Khwani Bazaar and hanging out with friendly locals I decided I’d seen enough. I was at my hotel and was gonna make a quick stop at the ATM to get some cash for a bus to Lahore.
I stuck my card in. Declined. Card/ATM not working. This is a common issue in Pakistan with international cards, and at the time I didn’t know which ATMs could take my card properly. I walked out the booth and a guy who was waiting asked me if I was ok. I said it wasn’t working for me. He went in to check if his card worked, and when he came out he said that he’d take me to another ATM.
Initially I was cautious. A stranger at the ATM is a crazy way to meet someone and trust them. However early on in our conversation he mentioned he’s a musician and is off to a jam. He invited me to come along before I even had a chance to tell him I was a musician as well. He got me a juice from a street vendor and we went off looking for another ATM.
After trying about five ATMs in the blocks near University Road, we gave up. He told me to come check out the jam he’s going to. He said he’s a guitar teacher at this cultural institute and was hyping it up. We walked down the road, knocked on the gate and it opened up.
Crazy. Opened up to a pretty garden, a stage and an open space library. Walked in and there were two rooms full of young Pashtuns. In one room there were kids and youth learning how to sketch and paint, and in the other room there were a bunch of guys playing rabab.
I told him that I’m keen as for a jam, and that I’d grab my saxophone and come back. He told me to hop on his motorbike and we went to the hotel.
Quickly returning with my sax in hand, I was ready to jam.
It was amazing. The distinct polyrhythms of the djembe, the beautiful sound of the rabab, the rhythmic guitars and all the guys soulfully singing along. Real Pashtun music, and I was immersed in it with my saxophone. It was a surreal feeling playing in such a different setting to the one I was used to; the jazz environment.
We played for hours and hours, a crowd gathered watching the West Auckland sax player jamming along to Pashtun folk songs. It was incredible.
Jwand Parasta is the name of their band, and they’re a very important thing to come out of Peshawar. For years, Pashtun music has been suppressed due to radical ideologies around music and arts, and it was shunned by society.
It is a huge shame that the society doesn’t support the music that the boys play even though it’s a part of their traditions and culture. The whole point of the cultural centre (called Mafkoora) is for Pashtuns to have a place to gather, learn about their customs and culture and discuss these conversations that aren’t allowed in public. It’s a safe space to discuss Pashtun history and for societal issues to be discussed.
We all went out for chai afterwards down the road at the uni canteen before heading out to Hayatabad. Three dudes on each bike, smoking Gold Leaf cigarettes and smacking the djembe and singing as we went for a cruise for a fat munch. We got there and all chilled around the table getting to know each other while eating lobya and karahi.
After our night out, they dropped me off at the hotel.
From then on, every day for the next week at least one of the guys would come pick me up, and we’d go to University Town to one of their hostels to jam, hang out and have a feed.
One day the Jwand Parasta boys said they had a gig in Islamabad, and they invited me to join them on the road trip and to jump up for a song. I met the bros at Mafkoora, and we all funneled into a van and hit the road.
The gig went great. It was a bunch of law students and they were all having a good time. Free pizza is always welcome in my life. One of the MCs wanted me to get up and do the haka but I told him no. I haven’t done the haka since primary school, and I think I’d need a couple drinks to make up for my lack of mana doing the haka in front of some Pakistani law students. I just sat there and looked like the token Wasian I am.
A couple days later, I rocked up to Mafkoora for an interview for BBC Pashto. Adnan (the bro I met at the ATM and guitarist for Jwand Parasta) and Bilal (rabab player for Jwand Parasta) were there waiting for me. The news reporter walked in with a cigarette in his mouth and his cameraman. We sat down in the garden and we started jamming and talking.
What a crazy story. Next time I woke up I saw I was on TV, representing my country as a saxophonist. The fusion of two different cultures playing as one in Peshawar.
There’s a lot I learned from my Jwand Parasta and Sor Parasta brothers. The main thing I learned though is to not be ashamed of anything as an artist. Play from the heart and let it spread. Be resilient. New Zealand society is super supportive in comparison to what my friends in Peshawar go through. Many of the brothers got disowned by their family just for playing music, so it’s a privilege every day in New Zealand to be able to play saxophone in peace.
There’s more to my story in Pakistan, but this is where I’ll leave it for now. I hope to take more time to write about my life experiences playing music overseas.
Events took place September - October 2025
Blog Date: 03/06/2026
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