Basic HTML Version
6
My IC Story
Mazen Damiani ’89: “Many, Many Memories”
I think I am no different from the generations of graduates that
lived the IC experience! It is amazing how, when any two IC
graduates meet, they all passionately reminisce about the good
days they spent at IC, irrespective of their age or year of gradua-
tion. Below I will relay some of the most talked about incidents
within my closely knit circle of alumni friends:
-The Elementary School:
Children are shivering…..The weather is cold, but that is not
the reason why the young pupils are shivering! Mrs. Sullivan is
at hand. We are all standing in cues at the bottom of the great
oak tree. We are quickly inspected, after
which the “unruly” students are called up to
the small ramp to be reprimanded. Once the
daily routine is done, all go to class. A lot of
singing and coloring activities follow with
Mrs. Abou Al Nasr, Mrs. Abiad and many
more. On that day one of our colleagues, a
Japanese student called Taki Taqiedhine,
offers the class a taste of Japanese food. At
the time, we are all amazed at the colors of
the food, but no one actually enjoys it (while
today almost all would pay a pretty penny to
have a delicious plate of that cuisine). Finally
the day is done….All are out waiting for their
parents to come and pick them up. One of my closest friends,
Sami Addam, has started crying because his parents are a few
minutes late. Suddenly the whole class starts crying, even
though the day is done!
For the record, my closest friends at that time where:
Sami
Addam ’88, Ziad Zakharia ’89, Robert Abboud ’89, Salah
Itani ’90, Michael Sawaya ’89, Nabil Abiad ’89, Angela
Zaher ’89
….
-The Intermediate School:
Before IC moved the 3rd to 5th intermediate classes to
Bchamoun, we were placed at Sage Hall. I have strong memo-
ries of Mr. Traboulsi, who supervised discipline and cleanli-
ness, Mrs. Saade, who taught us social studies, Mrs.Haidar,
who taught us English in the most professional and fun way,
and Mrs. Abdulwahab, who taught math and insisted on sorting
the test results in descending order, and upon reaching 60 pro-
claiming “all the others are failures.” Just as important, I
remember our break time with Shawqi (and his assistant
Maroun), who offered us a sandwich of “Hollandieh” cheese or
a manqousheh…Then it was time to move to Bchamoun,
where 3 wonderful years were spent. The lovely campus and
the beautiful settings there are hard to forget.
The schedule is also very hard to forget…. We started off with
social studies with Mr. Georgy, who sat on a chair and had us
all sit in a circle around him as he told us his stories, then it
was Arabic time with Mrs. Rifaii, who made us stand up and
recite a poem. And then it was Mrs. Laila Zakka for math class.
Finally it was music time; Mr. Itani taught us all how to sing the
anthem “Mawtiny, Mawtiny.”
During break time we all went out to perform our preferred
activities: playing with the caps of the soft drink bottles (mind
you, the golden colored caps such as those of the beer or
sparkling water bottles were considered more valuable than
those of the standard soft drinks).The objective was to collect as
many caps as possible, or, alternatively, to collect insects and
frogs…..At last the day is done….We all hop onto our buses.
Mine is number 17, driven by “Mouallem Iskander.” On that
bus discipline is kept by Mrs. Tabib, who keeps changing our
seats from back to front to next to her to ensure that noise is
kept to a minimum. That day the rain pours down and we
arrive home at 7:00 pm, finding our parents almost hysterical
with fear and anxiety.
My closest friends during that period were:
Sami Addam ’88,
Ziad Zakharia ’89, Robert Abboud ’89, Salah Itani ’90,
Angela Zaher ’89, Khalil Dagher ’89
, Hadi Bayraqdar,
Michael Sawaya ’89
….
-The Secondary School:
The bombs never stopped the night before;
we almost did not sleep, yet school time
was sacred. All congregated at Rockefeller
Hall and its unforgettable Annex. On a
daily basis we saw Mr. Rahhal, Mrs. Salem,
and Mr. Hobeika. But my fondest memories
from the secondary school are of the late
Mr. Istanbouli, Mr. Shoeito, and Mr.
Sarrou’. A typical day might be:
In Mr.Istanbouli’s class--and now I’m quot-
ing--“activity, activity”: all students pull out
their thick 200 page booklets to write…..Mr. Istanbouli gives
the equation and all have to do the work in their booklets and
submit them to the teacher at his desk. Then he starts again:
“Minus one for student X. Shou, saab? Wallah mish
saab….Rasak al saab…..”
In Mr.Shoeito’s class, as he hears a student talking in the back:
“ Ya ibni if you wanna be a joker go joke outside….” Then he
asks that same student a question which he obviously is unable
to answer and Mr.Shoeito says: “ Shou, mish fahem???? Ajiblak
ta’era mirwahieh ‘al saff???”
In Mr. Sarrou’s class, during a rainy day: Shoes are off to dry
then it is test time. One of our colleagues, Miss Majzoub, has
forgotten what she memorized the night before. Mr. Sarrou’
seriously suggests that she take a stick of chewing gum, chew
hard, and maybe--just maybe--she will then be able to recall
the material…..
Break time…..All go to buy from the late Mehio, who by now
has been barred entry and kept behind the large main gate.
Mehio is ready to sell both on cash and credit. His acquain-
tance with the students and at times their parents ensures that
he is always paid.
My closest friends during this period remained those from my
secondary school days, with the addition of
Mazen Kaedbey
’90, Said Haddad ’90, Andrew Sayegh ’89, and Wissam
Hakim ’89.
Finally, this represents a very small part of what I recall from
my IC days. The education we got, the friendships we built, the
atmosphere we enjoyed, and the personalities we built are diffi-
cult to recount in a few paragraphs. I admit that no other expe-
rience had such a profound impact on my social being.
I wish IC a long life and its graduates nothing but success…
Mazen Damiani '89 (below right) surrounded by his 3 rd B
classmates in 1985.