Living in Kashmir

I moved into my home away from home in a rainstorm. I was told it was unusual for this time of year, but isn't it everywhere??
I was put up on the 3rd floor which ment 3 flights of stairs several times a day. I wanted exercise and boy do I have it now.
For a picture of my surroundings...open the door and you walk into my sitting room furnished with the traditionally designed sofa, chair, and tables. A plasma TV hangs on the wall for the HBO movies each night. There are tall windows at one end that look down into the garden.
My bedroom is larger with 2 walls of tall windows for lots of light, and vistas of the snow capped Himalayas. I am enjoying sleeping with them opened to the night mountain air.
I have a large chair in one corner with a floor lamp for reading. I sit here in the mornings to do my breathwork, my meditations and that contemplative time.
All of the curtaining and bed throws are in the lovely crewel embroidery work famous in Kashmir.
It is still dark and I can vaguely hear something in the distance which is getting closer...am I dreaming, is someone singing?? Just to the left of the hotel is a Mosque and the Mosin there has a wonderful singing voice. I have never heard a call to prayer sung so beautifully. It is 4am and the first call which is followed by one at 6:30, 1pm, 4:30, 6:30 and lastly 8pm. After awhile you hardly notice it, except when the voice is harsh and preachy like a good old Southern Baptist hell fire and brimstone sermon.
Mustafir, one of the many family employees, has put on a famous recording of a Mosin from Mnachester, England for me to listen to as I type. He sounds like a choir boy singing.
Religion is an integrated part of daily life here. The guys here at the hotel take off their ties, lay down their prayer rug, pray for about 15 minutes, and back to work again. On fridays it is more prevalent with the Mosin calling at 1pm and the kitchen staff throwing off their uniforms, putting on their own clothing, and heading next door to the Mosque.
I pass 3 Mosques each day when I walk 1 km to the lake. And we thought Fish Hoek in the Cape had alot of churchs. It pales in comparison.
Each morning I look out the window to check the clouds for possible rain. If it looks clear I put on my Merrills and off I go down the road 1+ km to the lake. On my journey I pass men selling plastic pails door to door, the horse and cart carrying large metal cans of fresh milk, and at this time of year sheep, goats, and their herd dogs.
Unlike many places in the world now I see many women and men walking along the road. Not every family has a motor vehicle. Those that do might be with the husband at work, so the wife walks to her errands. There are loads of public buses, but most times men are hanging off the steps due to the numbers onboard. The lovely little 3 wheelers called Tuk Tuks in many countries are available as a taxi.
I arrive at the lake and sit for a short while to watch the canoes dredging up the vegitation growing on the lake. It is dried on the shore and used for fertilizer or food for the animals.
One day as I sat a herd of sheered sheep and shaggy goats were approaching. I decided to cross the road and stand in their path. They saw me, acknowledged me, and came right for me surrounding me completely. They were softly bleeting as I spoke to them. What a delightful experience that was.
A wonderful thing has happened in Kashmir, they have banned ALL plastic bags! You are given a fiber woven, strong re-usable bag for your purchases. Why doesn't the rest of the world catch on??