"Tunisian people are educated. Why don't they volunteer for these ministries?" the man asked. The crowd munched their popcorn. Their heads turned to a small woman with a loud voice in the middle of the throng. "I'll tell you why, because there are contacts from abroad. Mohamed Ghannouchi gets his green light from America. If they say stay, he stays. If they say no, he goes," she said, referring to the prime minister, under pressure to resign.
-- People talk freely in the streets
-- Shops, cafes reopening
Ghannouchi's caretaker government, formed after president Zine al-Abdine Ben Ali fled on January 14 in the face of violent unrest, has been under pressure from protesters demanding the resignation of figures from the old guard who have hung on. Just over a week ago, Tunisians watched the world from pavement cafes, not daring to air an opinion for fear that the man at the next table was a plainclothes policeman. Today, they stand on corners talking loudly about which minister should stay or go.
On Bourguiba Avenue, the capital's treelined central boulevard, groups of people gathered to argue about politics. They pointed fingers at each other, raised their voices, not caring who could hear. Police stood around, leaning against trees, or listening half-heartedly to the heated debates. A few days ago, a man was seen standing on a red box, airing his opinions to anyone who cared to listen. Another lampooned the wooden speeches of Ben Ali, the first Middle Eastern leader to be overthrown by a popular uprising for many years.
"We are against the RCD (Ben Ali's party) staying in power but we should be aware that they want this chaos so the military takes over. The military is not in the people's favour. Come back in six months and see what we have done," said a tall man in a grey coat. A man in jeans and a leather jacket pushed through the crowd to interject: "The military cannot take any decision in Tunisia - 160,000 police cannot be defeated by 27,000 soldiers."
Another man cut this speaker off to air his own view. The change is dramatic. Hushed tones were best under Ben Ali's pervasive police state, because even "the walls had ears". Even in the privacy of one of Tunisia's yellow taxis, no one talked politics. Taxi drivers were often pulled aside by plainclothes police and asked where their last passenger was picked up and dropped off. They would discuss nothing with passengers for fear of police entrapment.
On Tuesday, ordinary Tunisians were strolling along Bourguiba Avenue again, weaving around groups of debaters, stopping to buy small bags of popcorn or roasted nuts from street vendors now back in business. The cafes that lined these streets, the epicentre of some of the most violent protests in Tunis, have reopened and are full. The clothing stores on the sidestreets, shuttered last week amid daily protests, are back in business. Street vendors laid out packets of cigarettes and sesame sticks on cardboard boxes. The protests that unseated Ben Ali began as a tense affair, where demonstrators clashed with police who fired tear gas and live rounds. Now, they have taken on a festival atmosphere.