Hicham Laorea studied business administration. He stands in his salon wearing a red shirt, black glasses and jeans. Wavy wallpaper with a brick pattern decorates the walls up to two-thirds of the height of the room. The artificial wall is finished off with a white stucco strip with black edges. Above it hang a yellow clock, photos with sample hairstyles from the 1990s and two diplomas. The first identifies the owner as a hairdresser. The second as a circumciser. Koran verses play from the black compact music system. Hicham talks as he prepares his tools for a shave. Life is hard as a hairdresser. With his degree, fluent in three languages and his motivation to make something of his life, he believed he was on a successful path. But without connections or the right surname, he has no chance in the upscale job market in Marrakesh. Now he has to pay 1000 dirhams rent for this small salon with two chairs and a sink in a side street of the Medina with no tourists - he stresses that it's 1000 dirhams a week. A shave costs 40 to 50 DH. There is not much left for him and his family. Inshalla, Inshalla - God willing. Hicham emphasises that we are all in God's hands. God will know why he chose this life for him, better times will come for him.
The Medina of Marrakesh is a narrow and noisy place. Women rarely move around the narrow streets. They queue up at vendors who sell their fruit and vegetables on tarpaulins and boxes on the side of the road, or at the small kiosks crammed with detergent, bread, canned goods and cigarettes, buy something and then disappear from the street again. Men dominate. They sit in front of handicraft shops for tourists, crouch in the workshops of the Sucks, advertise restaurants on the street. Many spend the day in small, dark cafes or just stand around on street corners. Men in jeans, suits and djellaba - a tunic with a pointed hood. The street scene in Marrakesh is masculine. This dominance is also reflected in the countless men's hairdressers. There seems to be at least one hairdressing salon on every street, and in some there are two or three. The men's haircuts are all very similar. Variations are in the millimeter range. The hair on the top is worn a little longer than the hair on the sides, and everything is generally very short. The beard is professionally trimmed every three days. Moroccan uniform men's fashion, independent of social class.
The hairdressers in Marrakesh practice their craft in small, narrow, mostly sparsely furnished salons. In many there is just room for a sink, a chair with a neckrest and a dull mirror. In every salon the king looks down on the hairdressers and customers. Often framed by diplomas from the local Chamber of Crafts. Some of the rooms look as if they had previously been used as a butcher's shop or workshop. Others, however, have been lovingly designed. Nadi's salon is blue on blue, broken up by a work surface made of light gray granite. Hamad has lined his salon with beige marble. Star-shaped lamps hang from the ceilings and the chairs were once jet black. Another has hung a huge Metallica cloth on a wall as decoration. It doesn't really suit his appearance - he looks like an older, frail man.
Most salons have a temporary feel, they are a testament to pragmatism and improvisation. Many of the hairdressers in Marrakesh are over 50 years old. You only see a few customers in the salons. The hairdressers sit in their chairs looking out onto the street and, like Hicham, wait for better times.
