Outside shoes, inside slippers, toilet slippers, bedroom slippers, tatami slippers (oops--no slippers!) socks, bare feet.... Will I ever know the proper etiquette of Japanese footwear?

Growing up our ‘outside’ shoes came in with a quick brush off on the mat at the front door.  We never thought anything of it.  If they were particularly wet or muddy we’d leave them at the door.  Of course, we seldom sat on the floor.

In recent years some of my friends started asking guests to leave their shoes at the door to keep the house clean.  I liked this idea so I adopted it at my home.  I found myself wanting to sit on the floor more and shampooed the carpet, asking guests to take their shoes off.  I put a small rug down by the door to leave shoes on, but sometimes felt funny asking friends to leave their shoes by the door.  I wondered, “Is it OK for them to go barefoot or in their stocking feet?  I don’t have slippers for them to put on, where would I get them, what kind would I get for both men and women, would I have to wash them every time, how could I do that, and if I didn’t, would they be OK wearing slippers someone else had worn??”  (Little did I know these questions would be answered for me within a few days of arriving in Japan.)  I didn’t mind taking my shoes off when I went to someone’s house, per se, but I didn’t like walking around in my bare feet or stocking feet because they got dirty and cold.  My friends didn’t have slippers for me.  Sometimes when I knew I was going to a certain friend’s house I’d try to remember to bring socks.  While my friends and I liked the practice, my mom had difficulty adopting it.  She couldn’t get used to it and when she visited, my house got dirty.

I encountered shoe removal a few times when traveling through Asia in temples and homes.  It was a novelty.  It wasn’t until I reach Japan that it became an integral part of my life and I didn’t realize what it would come to mean to me. 

My first encounter in Japan with shoe removal was at the ryokan.  We could keep our shoes on in the common area but they were forbidden in the tatami rooms and baths.  It felt good to leave my dirty shoes at the door.  My first in-home experience came when I visited a new friend in Tokyo.  I took my shoes off at the door but wasn’t offered slippers.  My feet were cold!  I felt too shy and a little uncomfortable to ask for them.  Then I saw the strangest thing --  slippers on the floor in front of the toilet and it was a western toilet!  What in the world were they doing there?  Again, I was too shy to ask but every time I saw them I shook my head in wonder.  After coming and going from her home a few times with cold feet, I saw it!  A big basket of slippers -- all shapes, sizes, and colors -- to be used by any visitor was just beside the door.  I felt a bit foolish for not noticing them and for not asking for some. 

It was a few days later that slippers became my life.

I came to the Asian Rural Institute in March for a 10 month volunteer assignment and was more fully introduced to the Japanese way of doing things.  ARI is a farm, school, work and home to between 50 and 60 people.  There is a certain etiquette to the way things are done here and though there are more international residents than Japanese, Japan’s influence is, of course, strongly felt.  There are 3 buildings that I visit regularly each day with a dozen shoe changes before lunch.  It was so hard to get used to.  Where do I take off my farm boots vs my shoes?  Do I really want to put on slippers at least 100 other people have put on?  If I walk that far in my bare or stocking feet won’t I get dirt in the building any way?  A dilemma!

The first thing one of the other volunteers did was to take me shopping!  The selection of slippers was enormous.... Cloth slippers, rubber slippers, open toe, closed toe, open back, closed back, zorries, farm boots and farm slippers....... and more!  I was overwhelmed trying on more than a dozen pairs.  I bought five pairs and soon discovered I would wear every pair every day plus some of the shoes and slippers I brought with me from home.

A surprising revelation came when I walked into the toilet for the first time.  Just inside the door were slippers!  They had the word ‘toilet’ on them with a cartoon angel sitting on a toilet!  It was so odd to change into slippers just to use the toilet.  Realizing the differences between western and Asian facilities I understood the reason in the eyes of the Japanese.  It would never have occurred to me back home.

Talking with my Japanese friends I’ve come to learn some of the reasons and philosophies behind wearing slippers.  The obvious one is cleanliness.  Even in a western ‘wear your shoes all day’ mind there is no denying that shoes worn outside will bring dirt inside.  Keeping the floors and carpets from being worn and scratched is also obvious.  A new idea for me in relationship to slippers was that coming home signifies that we are leaving the outside world behind, we are (hopefully) leaving work and it’s problems at work and not taking them home with us, so we leave our outside shoes at the door and slip on our comfy relaxing slippers.  For even more freedom from the cares of the world we go barefoot.

Although I learned the reasons behind putting on slippers and looked up Japanese customs on the internet it has not yet become something I do without thinking.  In fact, I thought too much about it and I became a bit compulsive.  Shoes, slippers, their care and cleanliness of my room became important to me.

Surprisingly, slipper and shoe space became important to me, too.  I felt my territory was being invaded when someone put their shoes and slippers on ‘my’ shelf.  Not only would I sigh heavily and have a mental conversation about it but I would rearrange the shelves.  I even told our dorm coordinator that people weren’t using the right shelves and we had too many shoes.  I kept asking for a dorm “cleaning day” so I could personally remove all the shoes, clean the shelves and make things organized.  I especially hated it when outside shoes were put on my inside slipper shelf -- this would get my inside slippers dirty and then my room would get dirty. 

Was I taking a healthy Japanese custom to an extreme?  Or embracing a new cultural habit?

With all this “cleanliness” going on, I added a step -- taking off my inside slippers at the
door to my room.  I could go barefoot or wear bedroom-only slippers.  I wanted my room cleaner so I could sit on the floor and also not have to wash my feet before getting into bed.  This kept the room much cleaner and was especially nice when I bought a rug.  Then I got a roommate who liked the idea but after a few weeks outside slippers came in and the rug and my feet got dirty.  And I was angry!

I came to realize I could determine my mental (or emotional) state by my reaction when I was changing shoes and slippers.  Sometimes my “culture shock” was on a roller coaster.  If I came to the slipper shelf and someone’s shoes or slippers were in ‘my’ space I’d still grumble and rearrange them or sometimes I’d just put my slippers up somewhere else and be on my way.  Sometimes my mood was sunny sometimes black after a slipper change.

Wow!  How can a simple daily act create or bring out such emotion?  What has made me so critical?  Was I or am I always like this?  If recent, what has brought it on?  Is this culture shock at it’s worst?

Talking with others I have learned how important/vital and emotional this Japanese custom is, it seems to be a part of the DNA.  A colleague, who is western and his wife Japanese, said that his children age 2 & 5 know the custom better than he.  Several times when the girls were outside playing and hurt themselves or were scared, fully traumatized and screaming for mom, they ran to the house, stopped at the door to remove their shoes and then continued running into the house to find mom.  Another story was about a visit from his father who had lived for over 60 years wearing his outside shoes in the house, like my mom.  After several days of accommodating this cultural difference he became frustrated.  One day he forgot something from the house and since he was only going to be inside for 10 seconds to pick it up, he ran in with shoes on over the wood floor and tatami.  My colleague’s wife was horrified.  Her father-in-law wondered what the ‘big deal’ was.  She explained that coming into the house with shoes, especially onto tatami, was like walking onto a bed with your shoes on.  He understood immediately.

I’ve also learned that when westerners come to Japan they often make footwear mistakes, leaving their shoes on when they should be removed.  Sometimes, though quite rarely, the Japanese are also confused about footwear removal, though, they err on the cautious side and take their shoes off rather than leave them on.  The Japanese may not often tell a westerner what is right or wrong but with shoes they will certainly say something, with much internal restraint to be polite.

So, I embrace this custom, agreeing that keeping one’s home and castle clean and leaving part of the outside world out, can help create a feeling of harmony and relaxation.  I can’t

say that my emotions won’t be affected again by where someone places their shoes and
slippers but I can say that if my internal barometer rises at this, I know that I need only close the door to my castle and feel the harmony I’ve created with my newly adopted Japanese custom (removing my shoes first, of course!).

I was excited to move to Japan at the beginning of the year and knew that living with new Japanese customs would be vastly different in some ways and not so different in others.  I also knew that everyone goes through some ‘adjustments’ to the differences and can embrace them or reject them.  I’ve learned many things about myself, some things to embrace and some to change, from a custom that can be fun (who doesn’t like buying fun new slippers?), beautiful, therapeutic and, of course, clean.  I would never have learned them if I did not move to Japan.