(Adapted from the article here.)
For the spiritual individual, all spaces are not created equal. It is fragmented and contains rifts; it possesses parts that are qualitatively different than other places. There exist spaces that, therefore, are more sacred than other spaces. They are charged with a different sort of energy. And then, there are spaces which are not sacred... (Mircea Eliade: "The Sacred and the Profane")
The concept of a "clean room" could be found, with minimal variations, through whichever region of rural Hungary we could have traveled through. The traditional rural commoner's house had two rooms. One of the rooms was used for everyday living. The second one, however, was rarely entered. It was considered a sacred sort of a space, closed off from mundane life. This room was called "the clean room" for reasons both literal and metaphysical.
The clean room mimicked the common room in what it contained, but everything was one step removed. Traditionally, there was a table in the middle of the room, with chairs around it. There were maybe two beds, and several cupboards and closets. There was typically a mirror (larger than that in the common room), and decorations, and containers of various sorts. But this room wasn't to be used for common, mundane activities. The beds were never slept in, and the table and chairs were never used to entertain house-guests. Men rarely entered into this room at all, and the women - who were in charge of keeping the house in order - only tended to go in there to get supplies in and out, or to clean - and never with shoes on. (Like its name implies, everything in the clean room had to be in immaculate condition.) The only two activities that traditionally took place here were laying a family member's body out for a funeral, and the "farewell" ceremony that took place before a bride was married off. Otherwise, the room was not used at all, even for important ceremonies such as christenings or weddings.
In a practical sense, the clean room held what was beautiful and pure. The beds were piled high with new sheets, blankets, quilts, down pillows, embroidered cushions, and dolls in traditional dresses. Closets held brand-new clothes - coats, pants, skirts, head-kerchiefs, underskirts, shirts -- as well as ceremonial outfits only worn for Sundays or special occasions. (On Sundays the women of the house would enter the room and reverently bring out the family's best clothes, to be worn to church, and then replace them at the end of the day.) Linen closets held towels, dish towels, and tablecloths. Cupboards held the fancy set of dishes only used once or twice a year for the "big" events like christenings, weddings, funerals, or family reunions. A girl and her mother could store her dowry here over the years before she was of marriageable age. Even the views into the room were kept pure, with curtains hung in front of the windows, and even wooden blinds or shutters covering those which faced towards the courtyard or the road. Every element in the room was well cared for, with dried flowers in vases and various richly embroidered cloths decorating the surfaces; on the walls hung crucifixes, paintings of saints, and in later times, wedding photographs.
In a purely religious sense, the clean room wasn't precisely a place of religion. For instance, despite its atmosphere of cultivated purity, it wasn't used traditionally as a room for prayer. Prayer took place in the village church, which was completely outside the mundane sphere. It was the center of the village, and in a slightly less religious but no less significant way, the clean room was the center of the homestead. It was a symbol of life itself. There was a space for every activity - and perhaps the most important space of all, the place where one kept the purest and most beautiful things, was a space that was nearly untouched, and not a part of practical life. It was a space reserved for what was most important. It was a place of rest, a place of zero, where everything was always in order.
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