Welcome, pilgrim, to the Dan Carmel and the Terraces at the Bahá’í World Centre.
This is a brief guide to help you golf this authoritative, par-95 course.
“The Lumps” at “the Terraces”
In all these terraces the fairwayer must stray not the breadth of a hair from the “Law”. Please observe and heed all signs, and please refrain from wading after balls into the founts of Divine Bounty. Divots are strictly forbidden, and grounds for immediate expulsion without warning.
Please don’t feed the badgers.
By playing the BWC Links, you help to finance the maintenance of the terraces. Your continuing patronage is appreciated.
Disclaimer: though infallibly guided by the Sun of Divine Composition, the author knoweth very little about golf, and it ill-beseemeth him to go into great technical detail, for quotation from the words of others proveth acquired learning, not the divine bestowal. Furthermore, for they that move on these 18 differing terraces, the understanding and the words of the fairwayers have differed.
- The Terrace of Contentment. Why the fairwayer ever attempteth to drive his balls out of this terrace can only be said to be a divine mystery, but yea, golf is itself inscrutable. No man knoweth its secrets, and to go into detail on this matter would not prove meet or seemly.
- The Terrace of Search. The steed of this terrace is patience, for the course is well-concealed in the city, and the cabbies know not where it can be found.
- The Terrace of Conversion. The steed of this terrace is pain, and such that it would seem it may never end, for the gravel is something fierce for its sharp edges, and no steed will have anything to do with carrying anyone anywhere, and the fairwayer must find a place to change into more appropriate footwear, then lifting his bag, and turning toward the tee, the fairwayer is straightaway cast into …
- The Terrace of Proselytism. On this terrace the fairwayer is thrown into confusion. This terrace has no steed, for the steed has refused to go this far. Here the fairwayer is accosted from every direction by a host of holy caddies, each granting game advice at no charge, while the fairwayer stands firm beneath the Sun of limitless thirst. Secrets are many, but strangers are myriad. It is vital that the fairwayer find the right path, so that he may free himself of the all-knowing caddies. Peace be upon him who followeth the Right Path! The weary fairwayer, wearied out with his own life, waiteth longingly for those founts of unwelcome knowledge to ascend the steps to the …
- The Terrace of Wonderment, wherein the weary fairwayers, both proselyte and proselytizer, begin to wonder what they’ve signed up for. Thinking to excess upon this question, they find themselves pitching into …
- The Terrace of Shame, but growing weary of the pangs of conscience, they shake off their misgivings, return to the game, and find themselves groping through the lumpy grasses of …
- The Terrace of Administration. It is related that one day they came upon Majnun sifting the sand trap (it ill beseemeth thee to say “bunker”), and his tears flowing down. They said, “What doest thou?” He said, I seek for but one ball—any ball, that I may play out of this desert of dysfunction. I seek her everywhere; haply somewhere I shall find her. Finally finding a ball and chipping upslope, the weary fairwayer finds his ball trapped once more in …
- The Terrace of More Administration. Once again finding a ball and chipping upsloap, the weary fairwayer finds his ball trapped once more in …
- The Terrace of Still More Administration. This is the terrace of the highest authority, and the Men of the House sit consulting right over yonder in that big white house, but see that thou dost not approach them for the way is barred and to seek it is impiety. Just when the fairwayer loses hope that there may ever be a non-administrative terrace, he is reassigned to …
- The Terrace of Relocation, wherein the fairwayer must forsake every possession in exchange for freedom from administrative obligations and other community burdens, and receiving a set of rental clubs for the back half of the course. Shanking a beaten old secondhand ball into the prickly shrubs, he wanders in upon …
- The Terrace of Alienation, where culture sickness is but a euphemism, and the weary fairwayer loses whatever remains of his sense of place. The fairwayer inevitably finds his way from this hapless state into the …
- The Terrace of All-Consuming Homesickness, which is bound to lead to …
- The Terrace of Wholesale Forfeiture, wherein the fairwayer fails utterly to keep his head in the game, with thoughts only for the 19th Hole, and what delights lay waiting there, which I have not thought pertinent to mention here. The cloud of the Loved One’s mercy raineth only in the season of spring, wherefore the fairwayer, feeling the symptoms of overexposure and lusting for shade, ascendeth at last upon …
- The Terrace of Knowledge, where many a fairwayer dwelleth within the shadow of the tree of knowledge, having finally come upon the knowledge of the whereabouts of the tree of knowledge. After a siesta of undetermined duration, the fairwayer hooks a ball up upon …
- The Terrace of True Poverty, wherein pitiless ravens do lie in wait to pilfer balls. Having sliced his final ball into a fountain, the weary fairwayer begins to hit ghost balls up the fairway. Doing this, he mimes his way upward to …
- The Terrace of Illusory Contentment, wherein bliss causes the weary fairwayer to misplace his one remaining club, requiring that he shadow golf into …
- The Terrace of Absolute Nothingness, wherein the weary fairwayer wanders in a trance of delirium. And just when he thinketh it couldn‘t get worse, he swaggereth as one inebriated up to …
- The Terrace of Absolute Exhaustion. Labor is needed, as he struggleth up this infernal ascent, hacking away at the path with an imaginary chipper, until, lost in vain hallucinations and pummeled by heat exhaustion, he stumbleth into …
- The Nineteenth Hole, the very lounge of the Dan Carmel on High, and drinketh from its bountiful, divers taps. Ecstasy alone can encompass this theme, not utterance nor argument; and whosoever hath dwelt at this stage of the journey knoweth whereof We speak.