Youth Trip to the Faroes, Easter 2006

Just in case anyone hasn’t been peering at the tiny islands in the cracks in their atlas lately, the Faeroe Islands are in the middle of nowhere, between Iceland and Scotland and, politically, they’re under the control of Denmark. The citizens speak Faroese, Danish and excellent English and they’re unusual in the Western world in that they are a spiritual people, comfortable with talking about God, morals and mystical abstract ideas. One of the Bahá’ís in the Faroes is a lawyer and he told me that it is a common practice to begin business meetings with prayers for success.

A group of eight youth from Scotland, England and Ireland went up there for ten days at Easter for a travel-teaching trip. We had a lot of successful teaching opportunities while we were there, but I would like to share what happened at the Feast when only those who were already Bahá’ís were present.

There is an LSA (just) in Torshavn, the main town of the Faroes. The girls on the trip were staying in the Bahá’í Centre where the lunchtime Feast was to be held. We spent the morning cleaning up all our mess and so we were pretty sweaty and grumpy by the time the guys and the local Bahá’ís arrived. The secretary of the LSA announced that he had a message to read out. Yes, yes, very exciting, get on with it. It was from the Universal House of the Justice. Fine, ‘to the Bahá’ís of the world’, we know how it goes. ‘To the Bahá’ís of the Faroes...’ Really? All ten of you?

He read out the letter, which said that the NSA of Iceland had held responsibility for the Faeroe Islands since 1976 but that, from this Rid. ván just past, this was to change. After thirty years, the NSA of the UK was now responsible for the Faroes. There were five people in the room who had travelled to the Faroes from Britain for just ten days and there we were, sitting in their most significant Feast in three decades.

Going by my own experience, we stumble through life from day to week to year hoping that we’re doing the right thing. We hope for confirmations and look for them everywhere. I have never before experienced such a moment of collective clarity. We were right where we were supposed to be. There were tears and laughing and cries of delight; it seems that the UK has quite a reputation for action and hard work for the Cause. I pray that our community can be worthy to serve such an extraordinary country and that our efforts can bring all the countries within the UK and under its jurisdiction closer together to work for the good of the Faith.

And now a fake diary entry, written weeks after the trip, so you can sample the randomness of our activities ...

Got up about 10am. Stepped on Annabel’s head on the way to the bathroom, not realising that she was still in the sleeping bag. Luckily, she didn’t notice. Walked out of the bedroom in my pyjamas, forgetting that the front of the Bahá’í Centre is like one huge window. Note to self: wear nice pyjamas tomorrow. Ate some of Annabelle’s cereal before she woke up.

Walked to the male member’s accommodation, which we had to clean thoroughly, so they could stay in it free of charge. Not naming names, they (Dan, Nassim and Naysan) opted out of the cleaning and went to the Bahá’í Centre to have breakfast instead. I could have helped more but unfortunately I had to film Annabelle and Morag scrubbing the flat. What a shame.

After this we had lunch at the Centre. I suspect Erin and Sarah had something to do with the cooking. It was delicious.

Morag then gave us the unexpected news that we had been invited to the Mayor of Torshavn’s 60th birthday party. The Mayor wanted our musicians to play songs for his birthday. So we accepted this kind invitation and a few hours later found ourselves at a private rock n’ roll dance lesson. I am unsure whether this was to create new contacts, or to train us how to dance, in case the Mayor decided to have some dancing at his party. Happily, the Mayor’s party did not involve 50s-style dancing. Instead we pretended we were mingling with the Mayor’s friends at the table, while we took platefuls of grapes and marzipan sweets.

Later had a devotional with some local Bahá’ís and the lovely Lisa, who, although not a Bahá’í, had been responsible for the dance lessons and the party invitation. The devotional was particularly musical, as Morag had eaten a lot of beans that day.

Now it’s about midnight, I am writing this diary entry and drinking chocolate soya “mjolk”*. A fitting end to a surreal day.