This morning, I noticed that my right shoulder was pretty sore. Figuring it was due to some errant check from a hockey game the night before, I wrote it off until I went into the bathroom and saw the gleaming tile and mirror-like fixtures of the tub. Last night, already relatively gross from the game, I got to work scrubbing and trying to avoid the occasional blasts of scalding hot water that I employed to rinse the grout I’d just been over. It was hardly enviable work, but there was something cathartic about it beyond even the fact that I knew my bathroom was pretty filthy and really needed the cleaning. Perhaps it was the sunny, warmer weather that’s been rolling through the city, but it seemed that with each tile scoured, winter’s hold was loosened ever so slightly by an expiating combination of bleach, a scrub brush, and elbow grease.

Photo courtesy of IgoUgo member ladyanne47

Cleaning is a nuisance, but after a long winter of living like a pack rat, insulating windows and hoarding sweaters, it feels good to start anew. It’s no coincidence that the feeling is generally pervasive. Spring cleaning seems to be attributed to the Persians in a tradition called khane tekani, meaning “shaking the house.” However, a Jewish tradition of removing chametz before Passover also becomes a cleaning ritual—and also seems to share similarities with Easter’s egg hunt. Speaking of which, “Easter Cleaning” is apparently a popular activity for Christians and Catholics around the world; in Greece, Clean Monday” is post-Lenten celebration.

Though all these traditions are slightly different, notice they are all at similar times of the year (spring, basically), and really are all linked by the idea of starting over and cleansing before enjoying the nice weather. OK, maybe people weren’t getting excited about the prospect of tanning when these rituals were thought up, but our continuation of them as secular events shows that there is something innate in expunging the house—if not the soul—when the thaw comes.

When I was in Peru years ago, I visited the tiny town of Chincheros, whose colorful flag and vivid textiles were constantly on display against the backdrop of bright, whitewashed houses. Whitewashing the houses was a town ordinance and not only kept everything looking nice, but created that same sense of starting fresh, and the residents also included a general house cleaning as part of their re-facing project. As the high Andean sun glinted of the facades of the houses, you could almost hear the collective sigh of relief from the townspeople as they settled into their houses which were now clean, inside and out.

I’m curious—is this ritual evident in any other cultures around the world? Let me know.