What Does “Ikezu” Mean in Kyoto? Is It Really Mean? A Former Gion Kobu Geiko Explains Kyoto’s Language, Communication, and Hospitality | Masumasu Masuda, Kyoto | 和食は京都府、京都市のますます増田 | ブログ

The word ikezu is generally understood to mean a mean or spiteful person, or an unpleasant act.

Although it is particularly associated with Kyoto, the word has also been used more broadly in the Kansai region.

In Kyoto, however, ikezu does not always mean deliberately hurting or troubling someone.

Among people who know each other well, it can be used jokingly.

It can also describe a way of expressing something indirectly, leaving the other person to understand the message behind the words.

That is why simply translating ikezu as “mean” does not fully capture its nuance.

To understand what someone really means, you sometimes need to consider:

Who said it?
To whom?
Where?
In what situation?
With what expression and tone of voice?

Only when all of these elements are considered does the true meaning become clear.

When people talk about ikezu in Kyoto, they often mention expressions that sound perfectly polite—or even complimentary—but may carry another message depending on the situation.

For example:

“Anta, erai kakko shiteru na.”

Literally, this means something like:

“That’s quite an impressive outfit you’re wearing.”

It could genuinely be a compliment.

But depending on the tone and situation, it might also mean:

“That’s quite a flashy outfit.”

The same applies to:

“Hade na fuku kiteru na.”

“You’re wearing quite a flashy outfit.”

Again, this could simply be an observation or even admiration.

But it might also gently suggest:

“That outfit is perhaps a little too flashy.”

Another example is:

“Nigiya ka de ee na.”

Literally:

“It’s lively, isn’t it?”

That sounds entirely positive.

But imagine saying this to a group of people speaking very loudly.

Depending on the situation, it could actually mean:

“It’s getting rather noisy.”

The speaker does not necessarily say:

“You are being too loud.”

Instead, the listener is given the opportunity to notice the situation and understand the message for themselves.

There is another famous example:

“Ee tokei shiteharimasu na.”

“You have a very nice watch.”

Of course, the person may genuinely be admiring the watch.

But imagine that a conversation has gone on for quite some time and the host would like to bring the evening to a close.

In that situation, the phrase might carry another message:

“It is getting rather late. Perhaps it is time to look at your watch.”

In other words, the speaker may not really be talking about the watch.

They may be saying:

“It is getting late. It may be time to head home.”

But again, this does not mean that the phrase always has this hidden meaning.

Perhaps the watch really is beautiful.

That is exactly why Kyoto’s communication can be so interesting.

The meaning is not always contained in the words themselves.

When people hear examples like these, they may think:

“Isn’t that just being mean in a roundabout way?”

Sometimes, yes.

People can certainly use indirect expressions sarcastically or unkindly.

So I would not say that every indirect Kyoto expression is automatically an act of consideration.

However, speaking directly is not always the kindest way to communicate, either.

For example, instead of saying:

“You are being too loud.”

someone might say:

“Nigiya ka de ee na.”

“It’s lively.”

The listener may then realize that their voices are carrying too far and lower them naturally.

Instead of saying:

“It is time for you to leave.”

someone might say:

“You have a beautiful watch.”

The guest may notice the time and understand that the evening is coming to an end.

The important point is that the listener must be able to understand the nuance.

This is why, in this style of communication, not only the person speaking but also the person listening plays an important role.

It is not simply about what is said.

It is about what is understood.

The image of the “ikezu Kyoto person” may partly come from Kyoto’s traditional style of communication.

Rather than expressing everything directly, people may soften their words, leave some things unsaid, or allow the other person to understand the situation for themselves.

The important thing is not to judge a phrase only by its literal meaning.

Instead, consider:

Who said it?
To whom?
When?
In what situation?
And how was it said?

This way of communicating is certainly not unique to Kyoto.

However, Kyoto has a long history of close relationships within neighborhoods, traditional businesses, crafts, and the hanamachi districts.

These environments may have helped develop a culture in which relationships, appropriate distance, and reading the atmosphere became particularly important.

During my 14 years in the Gion Kobu district, one thing I learned was that conversation is not only about words.

Timing, pauses, facial expressions, tone of voice, and personal distance all matter.

The same sentence can create completely different impressions depending on how it is spoken.

Spoken gently, it can become consideration.

Said jokingly, it can create laughter.

With a subtle change in tone, it can become a message.

And sometimes, saying nothing at all can be a form of consideration.

Kyoto’s conversations often leave room for these unspoken elements.

That is why reading Kyoto expressions only as written words—or translating them directly into another language—can sometimes make them seem more “ikezu” than they actually are.

When people talk about Kyoto culture, the idea of “reading the situation” often comes up.

What does the other person want?

Is this the right moment to say something?

Or would it be better not to say anything?

How might the other person feel?

What does the atmosphere of the room tell us?

This kind of communication certainly exists throughout Japan and around the world.

But in Kyoto, centuries of neighborhood relationships, traditional commerce, craftsmanship, and hanamachi culture have placed particular importance on understanding relationships and appropriate distance.

Not everything needs to be explained.

Sometimes, leaving a little space allows the other person to understand for themselves.

That space is also part of communication.

One of the things I learned as a Maiko and Geiko was to think not only about what I wanted to do, but about how the other person might feel.

What does the guest want?

Would they like to talk?

Would they prefer a quiet moment?

Would they like to hear a story?

Or perhaps they would prefer to simply enjoy the atmosphere?

You observe the situation and adjust yourself accordingly.

This is something I continue to value today as the hostess of Masumasu Masuda.

At first glance, indirect Kyoto communication may seem distant or even “mean.”

But from another perspective, it can also be understood as a way of protecting a relationship and avoiding unnecessary embarrassment or discomfort.

Of course, this does not mean that indirect communication is always better.

It can also create misunderstandings.

That is why understanding the relationship, atmosphere, and circumstances is so important.

People sometimes ask me:

“Are Kyoto people really ikezu?”

Of course not.

People in Kyoto, like people anywhere else, have all kinds of personalities.

The idea that “Kyoto people are ikezu” is simply one image that has developed around Kyoto’s language and communication culture.

Perhaps what some people perceive as “difficult to understand” is partly because communication in Kyoto can place importance not only on the literal words, but also on the background, relationship, and atmosphere surrounding those words.

I find the word ikezu quite fascinating.

At first, it simply seems to mean “mean.”

But when you look more deeply, it leads to many aspects of Kyoto culture:

Language.

Conversation.

Timing.

Personal distance.

Etiquette.

Consideration.

Hospitality.

Kyoto has a tradition of leaving a certain amount of space rather than defining everything in black and white.

The other person senses that space, interprets it, and the conversation continues.

Perhaps that is one of the things that makes Kyoto communication so uniquely interesting.

Interestingly, I believe this aspect of Kyoto culture can also be found in Japanese cuisine.

Japanese cuisine does not always explain everything explicitly.

There are:

• The vessel
• The arrangement of the food
• The fragrance
• Seasonal ingredients
• Colors
• Empty space

The dish itself can suggest a season, a landscape, or a feeling.

Rather than explaining everything by saying,

“This represents spring.”

the chef may leave something for the guest to discover.

That sense of space and interpretation is also part of the beauty of Japanese cuisine.

At Masumasu Masuda, we do our best to explain the ingredients, cooking techniques, and cultural background of our dishes, especially for international guests who may be discovering Japanese cuisine for the first time.

But after we explain, what the guest ultimately feels is up to them.

I believe that freedom of interpretation is also an important part of a beautiful dining experience.

When people think of Kyoto hospitality, they may imagine beautiful manners, refined speech, and elegant movements.

Of course, these are important.

But I believe true hospitality goes beyond words.

It means creating an environment where guests can feel comfortable.

Respecting their time.

Not entering their personal space unnecessarily.

And quietly offering help when it is needed.

These small acts of consideration accumulate to create hospitality.

This is one of the things I learned during my years in the hanamachi.

I spent 14 years as a Maiko and Geiko in Gion Kobu, and today I run the Japanese restaurant Masumasu Masuda in Nishijin, Kyoto, together with my husband, the chef.

The world of Maiko and Geiko and the world of Japanese cuisine are very different.

But there is something they share:

Welcoming people and creating a comfortable and meaningful experience for them.

That is why, at Masumasu Masuda, I hope to share not only food but also stories about Kyoto and its culture through our conversations with guests.

If someone asks:

“What does ikezu really mean in Kyoto?”

I am happy to have that conversation.

Sometimes, a simple question about one word can become a doorway into a much deeper understanding of Kyoto.

Kyoto has many cultural traditions that can be seen with the eyes:

temples, gardens, machiya townhouses, Maiko, Geiko, festivals, and traditional arts.

But there are also invisible aspects of Kyoto culture:

the way people use language,

the distance they keep from one another,

the importance of etiquette,

the art of consideration,

and the spirit of hospitality.

The single word ikezu can be one small doorway into understanding all of these things.

At Masumasu Masuda, we welcome guests into a machiya townhouse more than 100 years old, where my husband, the chef, prepares seasonal Japanese cuisine.

While enjoying the food, we are always happy to talk about:

Kyoto.

The hanamachi.

Japanese cuisine.

The seasons.

And the traditions behind them.

When you visit Kyoto, I hope you will look beyond the famous temples and tourist attractions and also pay attention to the words, daily life, relationships, and hospitality that Kyoto’s people have valued for generations.

There is another Kyoto waiting to be discovered—one that becomes more fascinating the more you learn about it.

And if someone in Kyoto ever tells you:

“You’re such an ikezu.”

before deciding that you have been insulted, perhaps pause for a moment and wonder what might be hiding behind the words.

It could be a joke.

It could be a gentle hint.

It could be a small act of consideration.

Or perhaps it really is a little bit of teasing.

That moment of wondering what the other person truly means may itself be part of the fun of experiencing Kyoto.