Of all the ways those of us in Hawaii differ from our counterparts on the mainland, one we can’t overlook is footwear. Let’s face it. Here in the islands we have different rules. That can be confusing for visitors. It can also be awkward for those of us who go to mainland homes.

I remember, when I was at the University of Hawaii in the early 1970s, my roommate, Randy Hiraki, took me to his parents’ home in Pearl City. We had to enter through the back door, but not before wiping our bare feet on a wet mop his mother left for us.

Inside, his home had bright white carpeting that looked to be a week old but was probably 5 or more years old! Maybe she was on to something.

Try again

“My family lived on Lanai in my early elementary years,” former KGMB newsman Jim Manke told me.

“Iron-rich red dirt was ideal for the island’s pineapple crops but was a scourge to homemakers who tried to keep their floors clean — wood, carpet, linoleum, whatever.

“The only home of friends that was super strict about clean feet before coming indoors was that of the Scott family, whose four sons were strictly trained to ‘wash feet’ before coming in. Schoolmates were required to comply.

“Entry was through the back door of the big plantation-style house, and right outside the doorway was a faucet plumbed for that purpose — just 6 inches off the ground at a concrete pad designated as foot-bath territory. A supply of towels was stacked nearby.

“Mrs. Scott was diligent about checking feet upon entry, and more than once I (and her boys) received stern orders to ‘try again.’ I do not even remember if I owned or wore a pair of shoes, although I’m sure I did — for Sunday services at the community church.”

Going party?

Jerry Takesono said, “Growing up on Kauai, we never wore shoes. Don’t get me wrong. We all owned shoes, just never wore them. If you ever wore shoes to school, you would be teased mercilessly.

“’What, you going party or somet’ing?!’ Later on, when my brother was in grade school, he said the kids were required to wear shoes because they were re-roofing the shingles and there were nails all over the place.

“I think from then on everyone wore shoes to school all the time. My, how things change. Oh, except for the girls — they always wore shoes.”

Denise Teraoka remembers most boys at Liliuokalani Elementary School in the 1950s and ’60s being barefooted, but most girls were wearing shoes by the fourth grade.

Your feet are NAKED

Big Islander Ken Fujii said he had to chuckle at the incident reported by U.S. Rep. Ed Case about his swim team being denied entrance into a restaurant in Chicago because of their bare feet.

“I, too, had an embarrassing similar encounter with bare feet as the singular reason for my mortifying experience,” Fujii said.

“I was invited to the home of a friend from our college dorm for the weekend, and we took the train from Chicago to Peoria, Ill., where his family lived.

“After unpacking and changing into casual clothes, I came bounding down the staircase to the first-floor living room to meet the family.

“When I reached the landing, I was greeted not by a ‘Welcome,’ but by shouts in unison of ‘KEN! Your FEET are NAKED! Go back upstairs and put on some SHOES!’

“I was confused. Yes, I had bare feet, but this was inside the house, and I took off my shoes as a courtesy to my friend’s family.

“I glanced at everyone in the living room, and sure enough, everyone had their shoes ON inside the house. My friend and his dad with their leather shoes, and his mom and two older sisters with their high heels on inside the house.

“Duly chastised, I went back upstairs and put my street shoes on, and came back down, to the relief and satisfaction of everyone there.

“At dinner I learned that almost everyone in the community in those days wore their shoes on at home, from the time they got up until they went to bed.

“Maybe this immigrant family got their clues on how to be ‘American’ by watching TV and movies about typical American family life. In the 1950s and ’60s, you never saw Ward and June Cleaver (“Leave It to Beaver”) or Laura and Rob Petrie (“The Dick Van Dyke Show”) at home without their shoes on.

“And so my host family all wore shoes in their home all the time. They considered bare feet as disgusting, unsightly and ‘UnAmerican!’

“It was a big change from my life in Hilo where everyone removed their shoes upon entering their homes, both as a courtesy and a cleanliness issue. I quickly learned to wear shoes inside people’s homes without question. What a topsy-turvy world!”

Upgrade?

Rosalind Young pointed out that leaving your shoes outside the door could be a problem at parties, when some shoes could accidentally go home with the wrong owner.

She remembered going to a party on the North Shore of Oahu in the early 1980s. “My boyfriend and I dutifully tucked our slippers outside with the many, varied pairs of other slippers and went inside.

“At the end of the evening, we happened to be among the last to depart. That should have made it easy to find our slippers, right? However, mine were gone!

“The only ones left in my size were a pair of the 1-inch-thick, multicolored rubbah slippahs that were popular at the time. I concluded that someone who wore my size must have been too drunk or chose to ‘upgrade’ from their own size 7s.

“No big thing — I took their size 7s and wore those very happily for the next four or five years. I thought those were an ‘upgrade’ from mine!”

Shoes and puka socks

Barbara Andersen said, “We moved back to Hilo from California in late 1993 to buy, renovate and run my family home, the historic Shipman House, as a bed-and-breakfast.”

Cattle rancher Willie Shipman owned the Victorian home, built in 1899. His part-Hawaiian wife, Mary, often had Queen Lili‘uokalani and Jack London as guests.

“The first time we invited the neighbors, about 40 houses’ worth, for a function, our front porch had shoes ranging from rubbah slippah to dressy sandals. Most were uniquely different, but not all.

“The next morning, a neighbor, Sharon, called to see if anyone had reported going home with her size 9 black rubbah slippah.

“No, not yet, but eventually we learned that her across-the-street neighbor had grabbed a pair that looked like hers and carried them home. They were size 4.

“With the B&B, we made sure all guests knew of our no-shoes-worn-in-the-house policy before arrival. Even so, we sometimes had to remind them.

“In two separate cases during our 20 years in operation, the wives were as shocked and offended as if I had told them to remove their blouses, and they left. Both were from the South. …

“And we did see a lot of puka socks on people who had forgotten they would be removing their shoes!”

Slippahs in the snow

Gloria Young moved to Seattle to go to the University of Washington for graduate school. She joined the Hawaii Club on campus.

“One memory I have is of the Hawaii students playing tennis in their shorts and slippahs … even after it snowed at Thanksgiving the first year I was there!

“I had one childhood friend whose mother was from Italy. She loved that everyone in Hawaii took off their shoes to go into the house. She even took it quite a bit further by requiring me and my friend to wash our feet out by the back door after taking off our sandals, then dry our feet and put on house slippers to wear inside. They had the neatest, cleanest house of anyone I knew!”

Readers — do you have a similar experience with shoes and houses? If so, send me an email.

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Bob Sigall is the author of the five “Companies We Keep” books. Send your comments and suggestions to Sigall@ Yahoo.com.