In elementary school you learn that there are almost 200 countries in the world, and then everyone has to choose a country and write a report about it, and make some feeble attempt at drawing their flag. In high school, you do Model UN and everyone learns about the existence of Djibouti and Burkina Faso.
But that’s not what country means for Jews. If we’re talking Jewish, there is the country and there is “the old country.”
(And I’m not talking about “the Medina.” That’s another story entirely – if you’re worried about the Medina, you probably don’t think it even qualifies as a country.)
When you go up to the Jewish Catskills (a.k.a. The Borscht Belt, a.k.a. The Jewish Alps) in the summer, you are going to “the country.” For those who live in Brooklyn, Monsey counts as “out of town,” but there’s a machlokes whether it counts as “the country” or not. (If you’re Modern Orthodox, I’m sorry that you’re confused, but #facts.)
And then there’s “the old country.” My Zeidy would tell me that in the Old Country, if you ran around or misbehaved too much, you’d get a patch. Old school, old country –makes sense.
