Japanese Greetings: Hello, Goodbye, and Everyday Phrases

Why Japanese greetings work differently

Before you memorize a single word, it helps to understand why Japanese greetings feel unfamiliar to an English speaker. In English, hello is a workhorse. You can say it at 6 a.m. or midnight, to your best friend or the prime minister, and it fits. Japanese does not work that way. Two things decide which greeting you reach for: what time of day it is, and how much respect the situation calls for. Get those two dials right and you sound natural. Get them wrong and, while people will still understand you, something will sound just slightly off.

The time-of-day part is the easier of the two. Japanese has a morning greeting, a daytime greeting, and an evening greeting, and they are not really interchangeable. The politeness part is subtler and it runs through the whole language, not just greetings. Almost every phrase in this guide comes in at least two flavors: a relaxed casual version for friends and family, and a polite version for strangers, older people, and anyone above you at work or school. Once you notice this pattern, you stop learning greetings as isolated words and start learning them as pairs, one casual and one polite, which is how they actually live in the language.

There is a third thing that English speakers underestimate, and that is the body. A Japanese greeting is rarely just sound. It usually comes with a bow, and the depth and length of that bow carries real meaning. You can say the most polite words in the language, but if you deliver them while standing stiff and staring, the message lands flat. We will get to bowing in its own section, but keep it in mind from the start: in Japan a greeting is something you do with your whole body, not only your mouth.

None of this is hard once you see the logic. It is just a different set of rules than the ones English trained into you. Learn the three time-of-day greetings, learn the casual-versus-polite split, and add a small bow, and you already have the core of everyday Japanese social life. Everything else in this guide is detail layered on top of those three ideas.

How to say hello: konnichiwa and the time-of-day logic

The word most people learn first is konnichiwa, written こんにちは. It is the closest thing Japanese has to a general hello, and it works well from late morning through the afternoon. If you only ever remember one greeting, this is a fine one to carry, because it is polite enough for almost any daytime situation and it will never be rude. One spelling note that trips learners up: that last character is written with the character normally read as "ha," but in this word it is pronounced "wa." So you write は and you say "wa." Do not let the writing throw off your pronunciation.

Here is the catch that surprises beginners. Konnichiwa is not an all-day word. It belongs to the middle of the day. Use it first thing in the morning and it sounds a little strange, the way saying good afternoon at the breakfast table would sound in English. Use it late at night and it is stranger still. Japanese splits the day into three greeting zones, and konnichiwa owns only the middle one.

In the morning you say ohayou, おはよう, with friends, or the polite ohayou gozaimasu, おはようございます, with everyone else. This is a greeting you will hear constantly, and worth noting: in many Japanese workplaces people say ohayou gozaimasu when they arrive for a shift even if it is the afternoon or evening, because it functions as a "hello, starting work now" greeting among colleagues. That is a nice example of how these words carry more than their literal time meaning.

Once the light starts to fade and evening sets in, you switch to konbanwa, こんばんは, which is good evening. Like konnichiwa, it ends in the "wa" sound written with は. And when you are heading to bed or saying goodnight to someone, you use oyasumi, おやすみ, casually, or oyasuminasai, おやすみなさい, politely. Oyasuminasai is not really a hello at all, it is a parting for the end of the day, but it fits the time-of-day picture so cleanly that it is worth learning alongside the others.

So the full picture of the time-of-day logic is simple to hold in your head. Morning belongs to ohayou. The middle of the day belongs to konnichiwa. The evening belongs to konbanwa. Nighttime, as you part, belongs to oyasuminasai. There is no strict clock that governs the switch. It is about the feel of the day, the light, and what people around you are saying. When you are unsure, listen for a beat before you speak and match whatever the locals are using.

A couple of casual extras round this out. Among close friends, especially younger people, you will hear yaa, やあ, as a light "hey," and among some men a clipped ossu, おっす, as a very informal greeting. You do not need these to be understood and you should not use them with strangers or anyone senior, but recognizing them helps you follow real conversation. There is also doumo, どうも, a flexible little word that can soften into a casual hello, a light thanks, or a general acknowledgment depending on context. It is handy precisely because it is vague, but as a beginner you are better served leaning on the clear time-of-day greetings first.

How are you: o-genki desu ka

The textbook way to ask how someone is doing is o-genki desu ka, お元気ですか. Broken down, genki, 元気, means healthy, energetic, or in good spirits, the polite o- in front adds respect, desu is the polite "to be," and the ka at the end turns the statement into a question. So you are literally asking, "are you well and full of energy?" It is a warm, natural thing to ask.

Here is a cultural point worth internalizing early, because it separates a phrasebook learner from someone who actually understands the language. O-genki desu ka is not the automatic conversation-opener that "how are you?" is in English. An English speaker will fire off "how are you?" at a cashier they will never see again, purely as a social reflex. In Japanese, asking o-genki desu ka to someone you just greeted a minute ago, or to a stranger, can sound odd, because it genuinely asks after their wellbeing. You tend to save it for someone you have not seen in a while, a friend you actually want an update from. So resist the urge to bolt it onto every hello. Konnichiwa alone is a complete greeting.

If someone asks you o-genki desu ka, the standard reply is genki desu, 元気です, meaning "I am well," often softened with a phrase to add "and you?" back. If you are just okay, you can say maamaa desu, まあまあです, which is "so-so." A very common real-world companion to this is o-hisashiburi desu, お久しぶりです, which means "it's been a long time" or "long time no see." You will hear that far more often as a greeting to someone you have not met in a while than you will hear a bare o-genki desu ka, and the casual version, hisashiburi, 久しぶり, is what friends say to each other.

The takeaway is not to abandon o-genki desu ka, it is a genuinely useful phrase, but to understand where it belongs. Use it when you truly want to know how someone has been, especially after time apart, and pair it with o-hisashiburi desu. Do not use it as filler after every hello. That single adjustment makes your greetings sound like a person rather than a textbook.

Goodbye: sayonara, mata ne, and ja ne

Almost everyone learns that goodbye in Japanese is sayonara, or more precisely sayounara, さようなら. It is not wrong, exactly, but it is one of the most misused words beginners carry around, and using it in the wrong spot marks you as a learner instantly. The truth is that native speakers use sayounara far less often in daily life than textbooks suggest, and for casual goodbyes they usually reach for something else entirely.

The reason is tone. To many speakers, sayounara carries a weight of finality or a long separation. It can feel like a goodbye you say when you are not sure when, or whether, you will see the person again. Saying it to a coworker as you both leave the office for the evening, or to a friend after coffee, can sound oddly heavy, almost dramatic, like ending a normal chat with "farewell." It is not offensive, but it does not fit the lightness of an everyday parting.

So what do people actually say? For friends, the everyday goodbye is mata ne, またね, which means "see you," or ja ne, じゃね, a breezy "see ya." You will also hear the fuller jaa, じゃあ, and the slightly longer jaane, じゃあね. If you know when you will next meet, you can be specific: mata ashita, また明日, is "see you tomorrow," and mata raishuu, また来週, is "see you next week." These are the goodbyes that fill real conversations between people who like each other and expect to meet again soon.

When you leave a more formal or work setting, the polite parting is different again. Shitsurei shimasu, 失礼します, literally something like "excuse me for the rudeness," is the standard polite way to excuse yourself, for example when you leave an office or hang up a business call. And among coworkers there is otsukaresama desu, お疲れ様です, a phrase with no clean English equivalent that acknowledges the other person's hard work; people say it to each other as they leave for the day. If you learn one workplace parting, learn that one, because you will hear it constantly. There is also the very casual English borrowing bai bai, バイバイ, used lightly among friends and with children.

So the honest guidance on goodbyes is this. Keep sayounara in your vocabulary, because you will hear it and there are moments it fits, such as a genuinely long parting. But for the goodbyes you will say ninety times out of a hundred, reach for mata ne or ja ne with friends, shitsurei shimasu when leaving somewhere formal, and otsukaresama desu among colleagues. Swap those in and your Japanese immediately sounds lived-in rather than learned from a page.

Thank you and sorry: arigatou and sumimasen

Thank you and sorry are not greetings in the strict sense, but they are so tightly woven into everyday politeness that no greetings guide is complete without them. In Japan you will say them constantly, and getting the politeness level right matters just as much here as it does with hello.

Thank you is arigatou, ありがとう, in casual speech and arigatou gozaimasu, ありがとうございます, in polite speech. The pattern should look familiar by now: the gozaimasu ending lifts the phrase into polite territory, the same way it does for ohayou gozaimasu. Use bare arigatou with friends and family. Use arigatou gozaimasu with shop staff, coworkers, strangers, and anyone senior. When you want to pile on the gratitude, doumo arigatou gozaimasu, どうもありがとうございます, is a warmer, fuller thank you. And that little doumo, どうも, on its own works as a quick, casual thanks, a bit like tossing off "thanks" as you take your change. When in doubt about which level to use, go longer and more polite; it is almost never a mistake.

Now for one of the most useful words in the entire language: sumimasen, すみません. It is often taught as "excuse me" or "sorry," and it is both, but it is even more flexible than that. Sumimasen is how you get a stranger's attention, how you apologize for a small bump, how you say a light "sorry to bother you," and, interestingly, it often stands in for thank you when someone has gone out of their way for you, carrying a sense of "sorry for the trouble and thank you for it." That last use surprises English speakers, but it captures something real about the culture: gratitude and a touch of apology are close cousins. If you learn one flexible social word, learn sumimasen. You will use it a dozen times a day.

For a heartfelt apology, though, sumimasen is a bit light. When you have genuinely done something wrong and want to apologize sincerely, gomennasai, ごめんなさい, is the phrase, with the casual gomen, ごめん, used between friends for small slip-ups. Think of it this way: sumimasen is your everyday, all-purpose excuse-me and light sorry, while gomennasai is a real apology from the heart. Knowing which is which keeps you from sounding either too casual about a serious mistake or overly dramatic about a tiny one.

Meeting people: hajimemashite and self-introduction

Meeting someone for the first time in Japan follows a small, reliable script, and once you know it you can walk into any first introduction with confidence. It has three parts, and it is worth learning as a single flowing unit rather than three separate phrases, because that is how it is actually spoken.

You open with hajimemashite, はじめまして. It signals "this is the first time we are meeting" and functions as the "nice to meet you" that begins the exchange. There is no real English word-for-word match; just think of it as the standard opener for a first meeting. You say it with a small bow, and it sets the polite tone for everything that follows.

Then you give your name. The basic pattern is watashi wa, 私は, meaning "I," followed by your name, followed by desu, です. So "I'm Sarah" becomes watashi wa Sarah desu. In practice Japanese often drops the watashi wa when it is obvious you are talking about yourself, so you will also hear people simply say their name and desu. If you want to ask the other person's name in return, o-namae wa, お名前は, is a soft, polite way to say "and your name?" using namae, 名前, the word for name.

You close the introduction with yoroshiku onegai shimasu, よろしくお願いします. This is another phrase with no tidy English translation. It roughly means "please treat me well" or "I look forward to our relationship," and it is a warm, humble way to close a first meeting, ask a favor, or begin any new working relationship. For extra politeness you can lengthen it to douzo yoroshiku onegai shimasu, どうぞよろしくお願いします. It is genuinely one of the most useful set phrases in Japanese, so it is worth drilling until it rolls off your tongue as one smooth chunk.

Put together, a complete first introduction sounds like this: hajimemashite, watashi wa Sarah desu, yoroshiku onegai shimasu, delivered with a bow. That is it. Three phrases, one bow, and you have introduced yourself correctly to a Japanese speaker. If you want to build the vocabulary that lets you keep the conversation going after the introduction, our roundup of the most common Japanese words for beginners is a good next stop, and learning to read the scripts through our guide to the Japanese alphabet will let you recognize these phrases in the wild instead of only in romaji.

Bowing and body language

You cannot separate a Japanese greeting from the bow that goes with it. In most of the situations covered above, the words are only half the greeting; the bow is the other half, and skipping it can make even perfect Japanese feel incomplete. The good news is that as a learner you are not expected to master the fine gradations that a Japanese businessperson navigates daily. A sincere, appropriately sized bow is enough, and people will appreciate the effort.

The core idea is that the depth and length of a bow scale with respect. A quick, shallow nod of the head is casual, the sort of thing you do to a friend as you say ja ne, or to acknowledge someone in passing. A deeper bend from the waist, held a moment longer, shows more respect and is what you offer to a boss, a client, a teacher, or an elder. The deepest, slowest bows are reserved for formal apologies and moments of real gratitude or ceremony, and you are unlikely to need those early on. When unsure, a modest bow from the upper body, held for a second, is a safe, respectful default.

A few practical habits make your bowing look natural rather than stiff. Keep your back straight and bend from the hips rather than just dropping your head. Let your eyes follow the bow downward rather than staring at the other person's face while you bend. In casual settings a small nod is plenty, so do not over-bow to friends, which can come across as strangely formal. And you generally bow and speak together, or bow just after the words, letting the two parts of the greeting move as one.

One more thing English speakers should unlearn: the handshake reflex. In Japan, greetings do not usually involve touching. You do not need to shake hands, and you certainly do not combine a bow with a handshake unless the other person clearly offers a hand first, which does happen in international business settings. If a hand is offered, a light handshake with a small bow is fine. Otherwise, keep your hands to yourself and let the bow do the work. Reading the moment, whether to bow only or to accept an offered hand, is a small social skill you will pick up quickly just by watching what people around you do.

Politeness levels: casual vs polite

By now you have seen the same pattern appear again and again: ohayou versus ohayou gozaimasu, arigatou versus arigatou gozaimasu, gomen versus gomennasai. This is not a coincidence or a set of unrelated exceptions. It is one of the deepest features of Japanese, and understanding it will make every greeting in this guide click into place. Japanese has built-in politeness levels, and the words you choose signal your relationship with the person you are speaking to.

At the simplest level, think of two registers. There is casual, or plain, speech, which you use with friends, family, and people younger than or close to you. And there is polite speech, marked heavily by the endings desu and -masu, which you use with strangers, older people, customers, teachers, and anyone above you at work or in social rank. The polite register is not stiff or unfriendly; it is simply the respectful default among people who are not close. When you are unsure which to use, the polite form is always the safer bet, because polite speech to a close friend sounds a touch formal at worst, while casual speech to a stranger or a superior can sound genuinely rude.

This is exactly why so many greetings come in pairs, and why it pays to learn them in pairs. Ohayou is what you say to your roommate; ohayou gozaimasu is what you say to your manager. Mata ne is for your friend; shitsurei shimasu is for the office. Arigatou is for your sister; arigatou gozaimasu is for the shop clerk. If you learn only the casual half, you will be stuck using it in situations that call for respect. If you learn only the polite half, you will sound oddly formal with your friends. Learn both, and you can dial your speech up or down to fit whoever is in front of you.

For a beginner in Japan, there is a simple, safe strategy: default to the polite forms. Say ohayou gozaimasu, konnichiwa, konbanwa, arigatou gozaimasu, sumimasen, and yoroshiku onegai shimasu, and you will be correctly polite in nearly every situation you meet as a visitor or new learner. As you make friends and start to sense when the relationship has relaxed, you can begin dropping into the casual forms with those people. Japanese speakers themselves shift registers constantly, and they will not expect a learner to get every nuance right. What they will notice and appreciate is that you erred on the side of respect. If you want to keep building on this, our guide to the days of the week in Japanese shows the same script-and-reading logic at work in another everyday corner of the language.

A full Japanese greetings table

Here is a single reference you can come back to. It gathers the core greetings and everyday phrases with their kana or kanji, romaji, English meaning, and a note on when to use each. Read the romaji out loud as you go, and try to link each phrase to a real moment when you would say it.

Do not try to swallow this table in one sitting. Pick the five or six phrases you will actually use first, the time-of-day greetings plus arigatou and sumimasen, and drill those until they are automatic. Come back for the rest once the core feels solid. A greeting you can say without thinking is worth ten you can only recognize on a page.

Everyday phrases at home and at work

Beyond the greetings you say when you meet and part, Japanese has a set of small daily phrases that structure everyday life, and learning them gives you a real feel for how the language works. These are not greetings in the hello sense, but they are exchanged so routinely that any traveler or resident will hear them within a day.

At home, there is a lovely pair around coming and going. When you leave the house you say ittekimasu, いってきます, roughly "I'm off and I'll be back," and the people staying behind reply itterasshai, いってらっしゃい, roughly "go and come back safely." When you return, you announce tadaima, ただいま, "I'm home," and you are greeted with okaerinasai, おかえりなさい, "welcome back," shortened to okaeri, おかえり, among family. These little call-and-response phrases are a small window into how Japanese ritualizes the ordinary comings and goings of a household, and using them naturally is a sign you are settling into the rhythm of the language.

At work, otsukaresama desu, which we met among the goodbyes, does heavy lifting throughout the day, not only at parting; it is a general acknowledgment of a colleague's effort that can serve as a hello, a thanks, and a farewell rolled into one. When you enter a shop or restaurant, staff will greet you with a bright irasshaimase, いらっしゃいませ, "welcome," which is a greeting directed at you as a customer and which you are not expected to answer; a small nod is plenty. And on the phone, the standard opener is not any of the hellos above but moshi moshi, もしもし, the specific "hello?" you use when you pick up or check the line is still connected, mostly in casual calls.

You do not need to master all of these on day one, but recognizing them keeps you from being lost when they fly at you. Hear irasshaimase and you know you have been welcomed, not asked a question. Hear moshi moshi on the phone and you know the call has started. Hear okaeri when you walk in and you know you have been welcomed home. Even passive recognition of these everyday phrases makes daily life in Japanese feel far less bewildering, and picking a few to actually use, like ittekimasu and tadaima at home, is an easy, satisfying way to sound natural.

Practicing greetings out loud

Here is the part that most greeting guides quietly skip. Reading this page, memorizing the table, even understanding every nuance of politeness and bowing, does not mean you can actually say these words when a real Japanese person is standing in front of you. There is a wide gap between knowing a greeting and producing it out loud, on time, with the right sound and rhythm, while your heart is beating a little faster because someone is waiting for you to speak. Closing that gap is a different kind of work, and it is the work that most learners avoid.

You have probably felt this even in your own language classes. You know the word. You would nail it on a flashcard. Then the moment comes to say it aloud and it snags, or it comes out flat and mumbled, or your mind blanks and you fall back on English. Greetings are especially prone to this because they happen fast, at the very start of an interaction, before you have warmed up. If konnichiwa or hajimemashite is not fully automatic, that opening beat is exactly when it will desert you.

The fix is not more reading, it is repetition out loud. Say the greetings aloud, not in your head. Say ohayou gozaimasu as you would to a manager, konnichiwa as you would to a shopkeeper, hajimemashite as you would to a new colleague, complete with a small bow at your desk if you like. Feel the "wa" at the end of konnichiwa. Let yoroshiku onegai shimasu flow as one chunk rather than four separate words. The goal is to move each greeting from something you translate into something your mouth simply does, and that only happens through speaking, over and over, until it stops feeling like effort.

The obstacle, of course, is that speaking practice usually needs a partner, and a patient Japanese speaker who will let you fumble through your greetings at 7 a.m. is not always on hand. That is exactly the gap SPAIKING is built to fill. It gives you an AI partner you can speak Japanese with any time, so you can run your greetings and introductions out loud in a real back-and-forth, get your pronunciation corrected in the moment, and build the reflex of producing these phrases under the light pressure of a conversation, all without the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of a stranger. You drill the greeting on paper, then you go say it out loud to something that answers back, and that second step is where recognition finally turns into speech. You can see how it works on our pricing page, or head back to the homepage to start talking.

So take the greetings in this guide and, starting today, say them aloud. Greet the mirror with konnichiwa. Introduce yourself to the empty room with hajimemashite, watashi wa desu, yoroshiku onegai shimasu. Then find a way to say them to something or someone that responds, so the words have to come out on cue. Do that consistently and the next time you actually meet a Japanese speaker, the greeting will already be waiting in your mouth, ready to go, which is the whole point of learning it in the first place.