By Sven , May 27, in Casablanca. It remained quiet in Morocco until late February, or at least quieter than in neighbouring North African countries. By Elisabeth Wellershaus. It is early Friday morning in Rabat. The busy little capital is slowly awakening. Blue taxis push through the side streets near Boulevard Mohammed V. The glaring January sun is reflected on the carriages of the new tram railway.
Early risers, newspaper readers and sun worshippers are seated at breakfast. The guests casually lounge on their plastic chairs. The Moroccan men cool their mint tea with practiced hands.
The foreigners leaf through international papers sold at the kerbside of the boulevard, where the goings-on are similar. It was no place for women. Traditional cafes in particular are the domain of men. And one who acts very extroverted, laughs out loud or sings is crazy. Zitane is tall, husky, wears her black hair ultra-short and acts as if nothing could frighten her. For years, Moroccan women in the large cities have been fighting successfully for their rights. They have won themselves important positions in public institutions such as the universities and parliament.
With the support of King Mohammed VI, they have even won the battle to amend family law in their favour. Yet they have not yet conquered this one traditional space. Two older actresses nod pugnaciously.
The Happy Hour project slowly takes shape. It began with a few informal conversations. Wolfgang Meissner, director of the Goethe-Institut in Rabat, reacted swiftly. There were discussions, deliberations and plans were made. The Goethe-Institut hired theatrical director Mohammed El Hassouni and choreographer Khalid Benghrib to artistically accompany the project.
