I wish my name would have been Oscar Lowenstein

I once read some chapters of the bible because I wanted to know a little bit more about one of the most famous (and funniest) books in history.

The weirdest thing I read was in the old testament, it was a sort of rules for the readers - since jesus was not born - I assume the readers were Jews. This list was like the 10 commandments for food. The “readers” or “users” of this list were not allowed to eat, among others: Veal prepared with dairy products (so no cheeseburgers); meat from animals with a paw without division (so no pork, but deer for example), and “animals from the sea with no flakes” (no mollusks, no oysters…and if this is to be taken seriously no tuna).

In 2009 I had flatmate who worked for AirFrance for many years in London, and she once told me I should ask for a special meal when booking a flight, because these “special-meal-people” always get what their food, and they get it first than anyone. Most of us have experienced that when the flight attendant gets to our row with the food-cart, we cannot select between pasta and chicken anymore, because what we would have liked to order is finished, and we have no option but to eat whatever they give us.

When my brother and I flight together, we envy the Indian passengers, the Moslems, the Vegans because their plates always smell better than our chicken or pasta.

Yesterday I took a plane and when I booked, I did what my flatmate told me. People, I had a huge selection of meals to choose from: Gluten-free, Ovo-lacto-vegetarian, Buddhist…and I choose the coolest: Kosher-meal

In Chihuahua, I don’t know any Jewish, actually, I know no Jew at all. In Austria, at least in Innsbruck, it is hard to find them, maybe because – and this is well known - Germans and Austrians haven’t been very nice to them. However, in Chihuahua, I know some people with the last name “Lowenstein”, and apparently, that is very Jew – I learned that in Innsbruck.

Now back to the plane: There I was, falling asleep, when the flight attendant comes and tells me that my meal is on board and it will be taken out from a box, but they will not open it. As soon as she finished her sentence, I started to freak out.

Next: 10 minutes later, she shows up with a huge cardboard box with big letters written in Hebrew. Most of the passengers who saw me (or my kosher meal box) were staring at me, either because:

- the huge size of the meal box,

- I got my meal first than anybody on the plane and they were all very hungry,

- of the nice smell coming out of the box (my brother and I always stare at special-meal-boxes)

- or because one thing…and that was the thing I feared the most: I was not behaving like a Jewish person.

In this moment, I was under so much pressure, that I decided to act like a Jewish man (it was a pity I know no Jewish person at all), So, first, I did pretend I was inspecting if all food was really kosher, and then, the most difficult part started: I closed my eyes and pretend I was praying. In that moment, I really thought of making myself a Kippah out of my Lufthansa napkin and fixing it on my head with the toothpick, but, luckily I didn’t.

I was about to start eating, when the girl on my side asked me if I wanted her salad because she was not eating it, and I accepted, but when she was giving it to me I saw shrimps on it, so I had to reject the salad an told her “Sorry, I am Jew and I am not allowed to eat shrimps because shrimps come from the sea, but have no flakes”. I hope the Talmud really states that.

Last night was so interesting I wish my name would have been Oscar Lowenstein.