The 20 Japanese Signs You See Everywhere (and Can Learn to Read Today)

You do not need to “know Japanese” to start reading Japan. The streets run on a repertoire of about twenty signs — and unlike sentences, signs work like logos: fixed shape, fixed place, fixed meaning. Learn 押おす (push) and 引ひく (pull) right now, and you've already beaten the door that embarrasses every first-time visitor.

Better still, the signs aren't twenty random pictures. They're built from a handful of reusable parts — one character that means “in progress”, one pair that means “forbidden”, one that means “opening” — so the list compresses as you go. By the end, new signs you've never studied will start half-reading themselves.

Here are the twenty, grouped the way you'll actually meet them: doors, exits, shopfronts, warnings, and the facilities you'll be very glad you can find.

The door test: 押おす, 引ひく, 開ひらく, 閉とじる

Every glass door in Japan quietly grades you. 押おす means push, 引ひく means pull, and they're usually written right at hand height. A memory hook that sticks: 押おす contains more strokes packed tight — you push through resistance; 引ひく is built from the character for a bow, and a bow is something you pull.

The same pair's cousins live in every elevator: 開ひらく opens the doors, 閉とじる closes them. This is the highest-pressure kanji quiz in daily life — someone jogging toward the elevator, your finger hovering. The open button's character contains a “gate” with legs walking apart; with luck, that image surfaces before the doors do.

One character unlocks every exit: 口くち

口くち means mouth — and by extension, any opening. That single fact unlocks a whole family: 入口いりぐち is the way in, 出口でぐち the way out, and 非常口ひじょうぐち the emergency exit. Train stations extend the pattern to compass points — north exit, south exit — always ending in that same little square mouth.

About 非常口ひじょうぐち: you already know its picture. The green running-man pictogram glowing above exits worldwide was designed in Japan around 1980 and later adopted as the international standard — one of Japan's quietest, most successful exports.

Shopfronts that never say “closed”: 営業中えいぎょうちゅう, 準備中じゅんびちゅう, 定休日ていきゅうび

The sign hanging on a shop door is a small masterclass in Japanese indirectness. 営業中えいぎょうちゅう means “open — business in progress”. But flip it over and it rarely says “closed”: it says 準備中じゅんびちゅう, “in preparation”. The shop isn't shut, you understand — it's getting ready for you.

The third member is 定休日ていきゅうび, the “regular closing day” posted by the door — many small restaurants take a fixed weekday off, and this sign is how you find out before you've walked across town.

The forbidding family: 立入禁止たちいりきんし, 禁煙きんえん, 注意ちゅうい, 工事中こうじちゅう

When Japan wants you to not do something, one character does the work: 禁きん, “forbid”. 立入禁止たちいりきんし is “no entry” — on ropes at shrines, construction fences, station staff doors. 禁煙きんえん is “no smoking”, posted almost everywhere indoors.

Softer warnings come as 注意ちゅうい — “caution” — usually paired with whatever deserves the caution: steps, wet floors, closing doors. And 工事中こうじちゅう means “under construction”, which you'll notice ends in the same 中ちゅう as 営業中えいぎょうちゅう. Hold that thought — it's the key to the whole system.

Facilities: お手洗いおてあらい, 男おとこ, 女おんな, 空車くうしゃ, 満車まんしゃ, 使用中しようちゅう

The polite word for toilet on signage is お手洗いおてあらい — literally “hand-washing place”. Doors are marked 男おとこ (man) and 女おんな (woman); most have pictograms too, but not all — knowing these two characters has saved many travelers an awkward pause.

Two more opposites finish the set. On a taxi's dashboard sign, 空車くうしゃ — “empty car” — means it's available; at a parking lot, 満車まんしゃ — “full cars” — means drive on. And on the toilet door of a train or café, 使用中しようちゅう means “in use”. There's that 中ちゅう again.

The reveal: you weren't reading signs — you were reading parts

Count what you actually learned. 中ちゅう after anything means “currently in progress”: open (営業中えいぎょうちゅう), getting ready (準備中じゅんびちゅう), under construction (工事中こうじちゅう), occupied (使用中しようちゅう) — and when a vending machine wears 故障中こしょうちゅう, you can now guess “out of order” without being taught. 禁きん means forbidden, 口くち means opening, and each new sign is a remix.

This is the secret of kanji at large: 2,000 characters are combinations of a couple hundred parts, and reading is pattern-spotting, not memorizing pictures one by one. Street signs are simply the friendliest possible textbook — short, high-stakes-free, and everywhere you look, with a small dopamine hit every time one resolves into meaning.

So don't wait until you “know enough” Japanese to read the street. The street is where you learn. Here's the full set for your camera roll:

Make the street quiz you back

The fastest way to lock these in is the walk-and-read game: every sign you pass, try to resolve it before your feet do. Doors are the daily drill — 押おす or 引ひく — and shopfronts hand you a fresh 営業中えいぎょうちゅう or 準備中じゅんびちゅう on every block. Not in Japan yet? Street photos and travel videos are full of legible signage, and reading it from your sofa counts.

Or let us quiz you right now: six signs, six situations — a door, a shop curtain, a taxi light, a rope at a shrine. See how much of the street you can already read.