How to Say “Excuse Me” in Korean (You Need Three, Not One)

"Excuse me" in Korean splits into three phrases with three separate jobs. Say 저기요 (jeo-gi-yo) to get a stranger's attention — a server, a taxi driver, anyone. Say 실례합니다 (sil-lye-ham-ni-da) before a formal interruption, like knocking on an office door. Say 잠시만요 (jam-si-man-yo) to squeeze past someone on a train or in a narrow aisle.

English speakers reach for "excuse me" so often it stopped meaning anything specific — it works for a sneeze, a subway shove, a knock on a door, and hailing a waiter, all with the same two words. Korean refuses to collapse those into one phrase. It asks: what are you actually doing right now?

That's not Korean being difficult. It's Korean being precise. Once you sort "excuse me" into its three real jobs — summon, interrupt, pass — you'll stop hesitating in restaurants and start sounding like someone who's actually lived here.

The three jobs "excuse me" is secretly doing

There's a fifth one worth knowing: 지나갈게요 (ji-na-gal-ge-yo, "I'm going to pass through"). It's a close cousin of 잠시만요 — instead of asking someone to make room, you're announcing that you're the one moving. Both work in a crowded market aisle; 지나갈게요 just puts the motion on you instead of them.

저기요: how "over there" became Korea's all-purpose summon

저기 just means "there" or "over there" — the same word you'd use to point at a building down the street. Add the polite -요 and it becomes the single most useful word for getting a stranger's attention in Korean: to a server across the restaurant, to a cashier who's turned away, to someone who dropped their glove on the sidewalk. It works precisely because it's vague — you're not calling them by name or title, you're just marking "hey, direction of you."

In a restaurant, 저기요 has a sibling: 여기요 (yeo-gi-yo, "here"), used when you're waving a server to your table rather than calling out generally. Both are correct; 여기요 just leans on the fact that you're the fixed point and they need to come to you. You'll hear both shouted across a barbecue restaurant on a Friday night, often paired with a raised hand rather than actually turning your head to make eye contact first.

In the wild: flagging down a server

That last line is the trap: 잠시만요 isn't only for squeezing past strangers on the subway. It's also just "hold on a second," used constantly by staff, on the phone, and by anyone who needs half a beat before answering you. If you only learn it as "excuse me, coming through," half its real usage will fly past you.

The bump: 죄송합니다 and the quick-bow that comes with it

If you physically bump into someone — on a crowded subway platform, reaching for the same shelf — Korean doesn't reach for "excuse me" at all. It reaches for an apology: 죄송합니다 (joe-song-ham-ni-da, formal "I'm sorry") or the shorter 앗, 죄송해요 (a, joe-song-hae-yo, "oh, sorry"). The choreography matters as much as the words: a quick half-second head-dip, said fast and almost reflexively, then both people keep moving. Nobody lingers to make it a whole exchange.

The one that isn't there: no "bless you" for a sneeze

This is where please in Korean and "excuse me" rhyme: both are places where English has a reflexive social script and Korean just... doesn't, or splits it into something more specific. Once you stop hunting for a 1-to-1 translation and start asking "what is this phrase actually doing," the whole category gets easier.