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Summer
2014 29
plication. Spouses are officially banned.
Classmates only can join.
“Some of us had not talked to or seen
each other for over 20 years,” writes
Kaedbey. “But now friends from North
America, Europe, the Caribbean, the
Middle East, Lebanon and other regions
joined the group and have reunited with
their classmates.”
Other than the two big no-nos, politics
and religion, classmates discuss every
subject possible. There is no particular
order. It could start with a winge about
a child’s school grade, an upcoming bar-
beque, the weather, or a delight about
the purchase of a new car.
“It’s different from our daily lives,” says
Barrage. “At IC, I was not close to all my
classmates but now I feel that I know
them all so well. I can say things to them
that I wouldn’t say to anyone else and I
know that it will stay within the group.”
Comments continue throughout the
day and night – reaching up to more than
1000 messages a day. In Kuwait,
Shadia
Abaza Haidar
has taken it upon herself
to write up the minutes – a debriefing of
a kind – about the previous day’s discus-
sions. Moreover, she provided the group
with a video showing their past (Torch)
and present pictures.
The group’s founders,
Samer Hajj
and
Maher Bekdash (
both IC Dads) seem
startled at the speedy growth of their
WhatsApp group. It was just a simple idea
to bring a few good friends together.
Hajj, the VP of Marketing and Sales at
Lexikon Group and Bekdash, the Regional
Brand Manager at GS stores, both reside
in Lebanon and remained friends well
after their graduation from IC.
It so happened that a few months
previously, Hajj had come across three
1990 graduates’ profiles through Linke-
dIn (a social networking service):
Mazen
Kaedbey
,
Antoine Boury
and
Mounir
Hajjar.
Hajj and Bekdash immediately decided
to form a little WhatsApp group dubbed
“IC 1990”.
It was meant to be small – just for oc-
casional hellos.
Finally – the group met. They were
thrilled to see each other after 24 years.
“I wish we could meet up with every-
one in our class,” commented Hajjar.
“Why not?” replied Hajj. “We can do it.”
No task too big, Bekdash and Hajjar
threw themselves into tracking down
classmates through Facebook. One
contact led to another. Before long, the
group blossomed to 46 members from
across the globe.
Today, the WhatsApp messenger rings
nonstop. Everyone stops to read the lat-
est comment. Even as Bekdash and Hajj
were sitting in the Alumni Office for this
interview, their phones were signaling
incoming messages. The reason? The
men had posted pictures they took of the
campus as they walked in.
Immediately, comments poured in from
all over the world.
“Wow, I miss it!”
“We all miss it!!! Rizkallah.”
“Those kids (on campus) don’t know
what they are going to miss a few years
later!”
“Oh Genie, if I have one wish then get
me back to the last two years at IC!”
But the group have gone well beyond
messages. One graduate often posts an
invitation to a lunch or meeting. Those
living in the vicinity respond and show
up. As a result, mini 1990 reunions are
currently taking place in many countries.
“We are really learning about each oth-
er’s lives,” said Hajj, “about each other’s
problems and we talk about them. It’s a
great stress reliever.”
The two men are now taking their
group a step further. They are planning
a big reunion in Europe or the US. Many
have so far responded that they will
come. Another reunion is currently being
planned in Lebanon during the summer.
“You really discover that you will never
find friends like these,” said Bekdash.
“These are your school friends and when
we get together we never stop talking.
It’s amazing.”
Meanwhile, the messages continue.
Another comment. Another complaint.
Another piece of good news.
“This group is a tiny part of my life
which is not part of my everyday life,”
said Barrage. “It’s not me being a mother,
it’s not me being a wife, it’s not me being
a social lady in Beirut, it’s me in a place
where I can be myself and talk about the
daily stuff I deal with.”
Maher Bekdash and Samer Hajj
… And another
reunion!