＜prologue＞
I started a blog called “The Baby Boomer Generation’s Miscellaneous Blog”（Dankai-sedai no garakutatyou:団塊世代の我楽多（がらくた）帳） in July 2018, about a year before I fully retired. More than six years have passed since then, and the number of articles has increased considerably.
So, in order to make them accessible to people who don’t understand Japanese, I decided to translate my past articles into English and publish them.
It may sound a bit exaggerated, but I would like to make this my life’s work.
It should be noted that haiku and waka （Japanese short fixed form poems） are quite difficult to translate into English, so some parts are written in Japanese.
If you are interested in haiku or waka and would like to know more, please read introductory or specialized books on haiku or waka written in English.
I also write many articles about the Japanese language. I would be happy if these inspire more people to want to learn Japanese.
my blog’s URL:団塊世代の我楽多（がらくた）帳 | 団塊世代が雑学や面白い話を発信しています
my X’s URL:団塊世代の我楽多帳（@historia49) on X
(Reference) Original article in Japanese
・江戸時代の笑い話と怖い話（その１）。手洗いより大切なものは「足洗い」？
Many people have the preconceived notion that the Edo period was a time of feudalism and strict social hierarchy, where people were forced to live in poverty and hardship.
Samurai were not engaged in productive activities but were lording over farmers and townspeople as civil servants. Merchants, despite their wealth, were subservient to daimyo (feudal lords) and unable to assert their own rights. Ordinary people were unable to travel freely except for pilgrimages to temples, creating a pitiful image.
However, on the other hand, the Edo period was also an “ideal circular economy,” with well-established public toilets. Even amidst poverty, people found enjoyment in forms of entertainment such as rakugo (comic storytelling), kōdan (narrative storytelling), haikai (haiku and senryu), ukiyo-e (woodblock prints), ukiyo-zōshi (popular fiction), jiguchi (puns), hanjie (picture puzzles), and yose-e (collages).
Therefore, this time, I would like to introduce two humorous anecdotes and two scary stories from the Edo period.
In modern Japan, the first thing we do when we come home is gargle and wash our hands. Especially since the COVID-19 pandemic, many people have probably been practicing this more frequently, haven’t they?
In the Edo period, handwashing was just as important as it is today, but in the Edo period, washing one’s feet (“ashisugi”) was just as important, if not more so.
The “Dojikyo,” a textbook used in terakoya (temple schools), also mentions “washing hands” and “washing feet” together.
People in the Edo period went out wearing footwear that could be worn barefoot, such as waraji (straw sandals), zori (straw sandals), and geta (wooden clogs).
Unlike modern asphalt-paved roads, the roads were dusty and swarmed with horses, and people used different footwear depending on the weather, such as changing into geta when the roads were muddy after rain. However, even with geta, feet still got dirty.
In historical dramas, you often see scenes of travelers or people returning from outside washing their feet in a basin of water. There’s even a word for it: “sensoku” (washing feet).
There’s a phrase, “to enter someone’s house with muddy shoes on,” which describes the audacity of intruding on someone’s privacy. Here, “muddy shoes” would mean entering a house with your shoes on, or in the Edo period, it would likely have meant entering with straw sandals, clogs, or sandals.
However, back then, “muddy shoes” simply meant “feet dirty with mud,” and entering someone’s house with those feet was considered a breach of etiquette.
1. Humorous Stories and Short Anecdotes
(1) “The Story of barefoot'” from “Tosei Hanashizoroe Nigawarai（『当世噺揃（とうせいはなしぞろえ）にがわらひ』）” (A Collection of Modern Humorous Stories)
One rainy day, a (sensible) person stopped by the home of an uneducated friend and called out, “It’s been a while, how are you?” The homeowner came out and invited him in, saying, “Welcome, please come in.” The visitor replied, “No, I came barefoot today, so I’ll come again another time,” and left.
The homeowner, unfamiliar with the term “barefoot,” was furious. Hearing his father’s anger, his son explained, “What they meant by ‘barefoot’ was feet covered in dirt. Since you came barefoot in the rain, that’s why they called it ‘barefoot’.”
However, the father mistakenly thought that any feet covered in dirt counted as “barefoot,” and, believing he had learned something valuable, went barefoot to a doctor he knew, solely to share the word.
When the doctor came out of the house and invited him in, saying, “Please come in,” the father replied, “But I’m wearing my shoes inside.” The doctor then said, “In that case, please go around to the bamboo veranda at the back first,” but the father mistook “bamboo veranda” for a person’s name and said, “I’ll go home now. I’ll come back later, so please give my regards to Mr. Chikuen at the back.”
(2) From “A Lighthearted Remark Makes a Dimple（『軽口（かるくち）もらいゑくぼ』）”: “A child laughs at their parent’s rough demeanor.”
In a certain village lived a family of three. The clumsy father, one day, said, “Let’s wash our feet,” poured hot water into a basin, and washed his feet first, then his face.
His son saw this and chuckled. The father asked, “Why are you laughing?” and the son replied:
“Dad, you should know a little bit. Normally, you wash your face first in situations like this, right?” The father retorted, “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t go into the bath headfirst, can you?”
3. Scary Stories
(1) “Ashiarai Yashiki” (Foot-Washing Mansion)
The image above is by Utagawa Kuniteru.
This story takes place at the upper residence of a hatamoto (a direct retainer of the shogun) named Ajino Kyūnosuke, located in Honjo Mikasa-cho (present-day Kamezawa, Sumida Ward) during the Edo period.
Every night, a tremendous noise would emanate from the attic, followed by a voice shouting, “Wash your feet!” Simultaneously, a gigantic, hairy foot would burst through the ceiling with a loud cracking sound.
If the residents washed the foot as instructed, it would disappear back into the attic. This repeated every night, and if they refused to wash it, the foot’s owner would become enraged, stomping through the ceilings throughout the house in a fit of rage.
Unable to bear the strange occurrences any longer, Ajino told a fellow hatamoto about it. His colleague became very interested and, with permission from his superior, they exchanged residences. However, after his colleague moved in, the foot never reappeared.
It has been pointed out that the fact that the giant-footed monster in the ghost story says “arae” and the name of the ghost story is “arai” is due to the confusion of “e” and “i” which is unique to Edo dialect.
(2) The story of the tanuki (raccoon dog) that was the true identity of “Oitekebori” and caused a similar strange phenomenon to Ashiarai-tei
As a similar story, there is a tale in which the true identity of “Oitekebori,” one of the “Seven Mysteries of Honjo,” is a tanuki, and that this tanuki caused a strange phenomenon similar to that of Ashiarai-tei.
In 1765 (Meiwa 2), the tanuki of Oitekebori was captured and punished by humans, and suffered life-threatening injuries.
A man named Komiyama Sazen happened to pass by, took pity on the tanuki (raccoon dogs), and gave them money, letting them go. That night, the tanuki transformed into a woman and appeared at Sazen’s bedside, warning him that his maid was plotting something evil, before disappearing.
Some time later, Sazen was murdered by the maid’s lover, a ronin (masterless samurai). A few days later, the tanuki appeared to Sazen’s only son, Zen’ichi, and revealed the truth. Zen’ichi attempted to take revenge, but his enemy was strong, and he was cornered. Just then, the tanuki transformed into Sazen and came to his aid, allowing Zen’ichi to avenge his death.
Since then, it is said that whenever misfortune befalls the house, a foot will protrude from the ceiling as a premonition.
Incidentally, the “Seven Mysteries of Honjo” are strange and spooky tales that have been passed down in Honjo (Sumida Ward, Tokyo) since the Edo period. They are a typical example of Edo-period urban legends, and have long been popular as material for rakugo (traditional Japanese storytelling) and other forms of entertainment, piquing the curiosity of ordinary people. These include:
Oitekebori (the abandoned moat)
Okurichochin (the sending lantern)
Okurihyoshigi (the sending clappers)
Akarinashi Soba (the soba noodles without a lamp, also known as “the lantern that never goes out”)
Ashiarai Yashiki (the foot-washing residence)
Kataha no Ashi (the one-sided reed)
Ochibanaki Shii (the chinquapin tree without fallen leaves)
Tanuki Bayashi (the raccoon dog’s music, also known as “the foolish music”)
Tsugaru no Taiko (the drum of Tsugaru)