Arab stereotypes are true, just not the ones you think

An interlude for laughter

I’ve told you before about our love notes on the group chat. We are a loud Arab family, boisterous and distributed. The group chat traverses time zones and continents and someone, someone is always awake.

Love Notes on the Group Chat

When My Big Fat Greek Wedding first came out, I remember thinking to myself, Yes! I recognize this. This Mediterranean closeness and chaotic love is my life.

I longed for the world to see Arabs the way Nia Vardalos showed them the Greeks. To see the long tables of noisy family meals, plates passed overhead, small children jumping from Baba to Teta to ‘Ammo to Khalto¹.

We were not obsessed with Windex, but we had our own neuroses: The shibshib². Greetings and goodbyes so elaborate and convoluted they need to be scheduled into our visits. Babas who make up cheesy poetry on the spot, and Mamas who will not let us leave the house without a five-course meal in case we get hungry in the next two hours.

Am I exaggerating? Of course! But these stereotypes, unlike the ones that circulate about us, are based in truth.

Recently, the group chat has blown up with a series of shorts from a Shawarma chain in Southwestern Ontario. These guys know how to lean into the stereotypes. The fun ones, not the psychotic ones.

My sister finds at least 3 videos a day to keep us going. Shawarma Man stops a kid from putting ketchup on his mixed plate. Shawarma Man calls French fries fresh froiz. Shawarma Man hires new staff and introduces them to the ways of the Middle Eastern kitchen.

Friends, I don’t know how to tell you what a balm these shorts are, what a necessary and soothing topical for my wounded soul. I’m so tired of the Arab stereotypes I see on tv, and so ready for new ones.

I want everyone to watch these. Give Shawarma Man a multi-season Netflix deal and a movie trilogy. Let’s have an arc where he invents a new spicy garlic sauce, and it changes the world. Let’s have a showdown with Heinz. Let’s finally meet the mysterious Abbas.

Arabs are not always angry. And when we are, it’s usually because we’re fighting over who gets to pick up the bill at the end of dinner.

Watch and laugh, my friends. Joy and laughter is resistance too.

shelbyscanada

A post shared by @shelbyscanada

Thank you for reading Letters from a Muslim Woman. I share the joys and challenges of being a visibly Muslim woman in a sometimes-unfriendly world. A paid subscription is $5 a month and gives you access to twice monthly unfinished letters, where I share my unvarnished thoughts on topics like Islamophobia, sincerity, and the visibility in being a visible minority.

If you’d like access to these thoughts and want to support me, consider upgrading.

If you can’t commit to a monthly subscription, but still want to support my work, you can buy me a coffee below. It helps me more than you realize.

Let’s chat in the comments:

1. Do you know any Arabs in your real (off the internet) life?

2. Are they anything like what you see of Arabs on the news?

3. Do you go down YouTube shorts rabbit holes? What kinds?

1. Baba = Dad. Teta = Grandma. ‘Ammo = Uncle. Khalto = Aunt.

2. The ShibShib is the Arab word for slipper. Arabs almost always slippers at home, and there is a stereotype that parents would throw their shibshib at their kids if they were disappointed with them. This video is beyond ridiculous and over the top, but it captures the stereotypical Arab mom vibe pretty well. No idea why it makes me laugh as hard as it does.
I’ve taken to following my kids around and saying, “I see you habibi” since watching this video. To be very clear: neither my parents nor I have ever used the “shibshib method.”