Editor’s Note: Vishakha N. Desai is President and CEO of Asia Society, a global educational organization.

When we think of notable women in Pakistan, we might picture Benazir Bhutto, resplendent in salwar-kameez, head covered in a dupatta. Those who are a bit more savvy may also remember Mukhtar Bibi, a cause célèbre in the West as the victim of the most cruel Muslim laws in the tribal areas of Pakistan, charged as a criminal for being raped by men other than her husband, because she "brought dishonor to her family." The late Benazir’s power notwithstanding, there is a strong feeling that Pakistani society is mired in misogyny and tribal notions of womanhood.

Vishakha N. Desai in Karachi, Pakistan

As usual, the truth is far more complicated. In a span of just 24 hours, I recently had three different experiences in Karachi that gave me a deeper look into the role of women in urbanized Pakistan. The first was a luncheon given for me by a leading male public figure. Of a dozen business leaders and prominent journalists, not one was a woman. It did not seem strange to my host that there was none. Nor would he have even thought to try to get some. In the United States, I thought, it would be unthinkable to invite a female leader to such a luncheon, with not a single other woman present!

My second encounter was at a vocational school for women where middle and lower middle class female students take courses in subjects ranging from IT and English to cooking and "grooming" (manicures, pedicures, threading, waxing, makeup and hairdressing). Grooming was the most popular of all. Imagine a large group of young women in the burqa, covered head to toe, intensely focused on making themselves beautiful, and learning the trade with dreams of one day opening their own little boutique salon for other, better-off women. I was told that this was the most lucrative option for women. Judging from the number of beauty and bridal magazines at the airport, it’s easy to see that an obsession with beauty is well ingrained in this South Asian nation. Indeed, I saw more women with threaded eyebrows, made-up faces and manicured nails in 24 hours in Karachi than I would see in a month, even at home on the Upper West Side of New York!

My third meeting was with a group called "moderates," from the upper echelon of Karachi Society and diverse professions, dedicated to promoting tolerance, interfaith dialogue and moderate views of Islam. This time, out of about 45 people, there were at least ten women representing different fields, from politics and government, to medicine, media and human-rights advocacy. Mostly in their 40s and 50s, they exuded a quiet sense of confidence often seen in professional women of South Asia. From the educated upper classes, they were typically supported by their parents and husbands and privileged enough to have domestic help, making it possible for them to be professional without disrupting their family lives. None of them covered their heads nor wore a scarf of any sort.

So, what does this tell abut the role of women in contemporary Pakistan? First and foremost it reminds us that we had better not make generalizations about the whole society based on media headlines that rarely look beneath the surface. Secondly, as is true in Iran, there is a strong obsession with beauty behind the burqa that is not unlike what we find in the West among young people, even if it is not meant for public consumption in the same way. Thirdly, family support — especially from a husband — and class structure can play a huge role in the professional development of women. Lastly, there is no substitute for greater firsthand experience of these societies that figure so prominently in our political landscape but about which we know so little in a cultural sense. I am deeply grateful for these three eye-opening experiences, and look forward to sharing them with women worldwide.