Japanese at a Supermarket: Labels, Aisles, and Checkout

What you hear before you say anything

The first Japanese in a supermarket is not addressed to you personally. Irasshaimase is called out by whoever is nearest the door, and the correct response is none at all: a small nod is plenty, and answering it would sound odd. The ceiling announcements are the same kind of language, a fixed loop about the day's bargains, and you can ignore almost all of it once you can pick out the two or three words that signal a price cut.

The one announcement worth catching is the till call. When a new register opens, a member of staff will call the number and wave the next customer over. If you hear a number followed by ni onegai shimasu or dōzo while you are standing in a queue, look up, because it is probably meant for you.

The label words that decide what you buy

Every packet carries the same block of information in the same order, so once you can read six or seven of these words you can read any label in the shop. Start with the date, then the storage line, then the price per hundred grams, which is the only honest way to compare two packets of different sizes. Labelling rules and wording differ between products and change over time, so treat this table as the common pattern rather than a fixed legal list.

Two of these repay learning first. Hyaku-guramu atari lets you compare a large tray against a small one in a second, and the seishoku-yō versus kanetsu-yō pair is a safety distinction, not a preference: a packet marked kanetsu-yō is sold on the understanding that you will cook it.

Best-before and use-by are not the same word

Both words end in kigen, so learners often treat them as one. They are not. Shōmi kigen appears on things that keep, such as biscuits, tinned food and dried noodles, and it marks the point after which the maker no longer guarantees the taste. Shōhi kigen appears on boxed meals, sliced raw fish, fresh cream cakes and cut fruit, and it marks the day you should eat it by. When a shop discounts something in the evening, it is usually the shōhi kigen items being cleared.

Speaking about dates is simple. Point at the packet, use itsu made for until when, and ask whether it will keep. The reply you should listen for is honjitsu-chū, meaning within today, which is the phrase staff use for anything that must not be kept overnight.

Discount stickers and the evening markdown

Markdown stickers are printed in a tiny vocabulary that you can learn in one evening. Waribiki is the general word for a percentage off and is counted in tenths, so san-wari-biki is thirty percent off, not three percent. Hangaku is half price. Nebiki-hin and mikiri-hin both mean marked-down goods, and a shop may pile them in one basket or leave them where they sit. Timing varies by branch, by day and by how much stock is left, so the only reliable method is to ask a member of staff once and then shop to that rhythm.

• 半額 (hangaku) is half price, and is usually the last sticker of the evening
• ３割引 (san-wari-biki) is thirty percent off, counted in tenths rather than percent
• ２０円引き (nijū-en-biki) is a flat twenty yen off, not a percentage
• お買い得 (okaidoku) means good value and is a marketing word, not a markdown
• 見切り品 (mikirihin) means clearance stock, often near its use-by date
• お一人様一点限り (ohitorisama itten kagiri) means one per customer

Finding the aisle and asking staff

The hanging signs use short compound words rather than everyday speech, which is why a learner who knows sakana for fish can still miss the sengyo sign above the fish counter. The written forms below are worth recognising on sight; when you speak, the ordinary word is fine, and sakana wa doko desu ka will be understood immediately.

To ask, name the thing and add wa doko desu ka. Staff answer with a direction, a shelf number or a row number, and the reply that trips people up is nan-retsu-me, the counter for aisles. If you did not catch the number, do not guess: say mō ichido onegai shimasu, and most staff will simply walk you there.

At the fresh counters: asking for a cut

A staffed fish or meat counter will prepare what you buy, and the request is always the same shape: name what you want done, then attach moraemasu ka to ask politely for the favour. Sanmai ni orosu is the standard fillet, giving you two sides and the bone; naizō o toru is gutting; usugiri and atsugiri are thin and thick slicing. Services differ between shops and busy periods, so a no is possible and is nothing personal.

Weight is ordered in grams with kudasai, and the counter staff will often ask whether slightly over is acceptable, because it is hard to cut to an exact figure. Sukoshi ōme demo ii desu ka is that question, and hai, daijōbu desu is the whole answer.

Asking about a product you cannot identify

Every foreign shopper meets the same wall: a sealed packet with no picture, no English and a name written in kanji you cannot read. Do not translate the label in your head while a member of staff waits. Hold up the item and use kore, which does all the pointing for you, then attach one of four questions: what it is, how it is eaten, whether it can be eaten raw, and what is in it.

If you have a food allergy, do not rely on a spoken answer alone. Say the allergen, then ask to see the printed line, because the label is the record and shop staff may not know a supplier's recipe change. Written allergen practice varies by product and by maker, so check the packet each time rather than trusting memory.

The checkout questions you will hear every time

The till is where speed becomes a problem, because the cashier is reciting a script and expects a one-word answer. There are only about five questions, and they come in a predictable order: bag, point card, payment method, then anything specific to what you bought, such as chopsticks with a boxed meal or heating for something hot. Learn the shape of each question rather than every word, and answer before the cashier repeats it in gestures.

The bagging table, your own bag and point cards

In most supermarkets the cashier does not pack for you. Your shopping goes back into a basket, and you carry it to a long counter behind the tills, usually called the sakkā-dai, where you pack at your own pace. This is why the till moves so fast and why standing there to bag holds up the queue. Take the basket, step aside, and pack there.

Bags are charged for in most shops, so a mai baggu of your own is normal. If you decline a bag for a single item, the cashier may offer to put a small sticker on it instead, which is what shīru de yoroshii desu ka means. Point cards are shop-specific and often free to make; the cashier asks about them on nearly every transaction, so having a fixed answer ready saves several seconds each visit.

Self-checkout screens and when to call staff

Self-service tills come in two shapes: one where you scan everything yourself, and one where the cashier scans and you only pay at a separate terminal. The screens use polite written Japanese, which is longer than spoken Japanese but very repetitive, so five or six lines cover nearly every prompt. If something goes wrong, do not restart the transaction; press the call button or raise a hand, because a member of staff is always assigned to that bank of machines.

The whole shop, start to finish

Here is the sequence as one continuous scene, from the aisle question to the receipt. Read it aloud twice, once taking only your own lines and once taking the staff lines, so that both halves become familiar. The staff lines are the ones you will hear at speed, and hearing them in your own voice first is what makes them recognisable in the shop.

Rules and services differ from chain to chain and change over time, so treat this as the common pattern rather than a guarantee. What does not change is the order of events, and once that order is automatic you can spend your attention on the labels instead of on the till.