I used to think currency exchange was straightforward until I landed in Tashkent with a wad of crisp dollars and absolutely no idea what I was doing.
The Uzbek som has been through, well, let’s call it a journey—the kind that involves multiple zeros being lopped off and exchange rates that used to make your head spin. For years, travelers dealt with this bizarre dual economy where the official rate was fantasy and the black market rate was reality, which meant you’d see people on street corners with calculator apps and thick stacks of bills that looked vaguely suspicious. Then in 2017, roughly September or so, the government finally let the som float freely and suddenly those street exchanges became less necessary, though you’ll still see them around if you know where to look. The official currency code is UZS, and as of this writing we’re talking somewhere around 12,000-13,000 som to the dollar, give or take, which means you’ll be handling some seriously chunky wads of cash. ATMs now dispense som at rates that don’t make you want to cry, and most machines have a withdrawal limit of maybe 2-3 million som at once—sounds impressive until you realize that’s like $200. Anyway, the main thing is you’re no longer operating in some weird monetary twilight zone.
Here’s the thing about actually getting your hands on som: bring US dollars, preferably printed after 2013 because Uzbek exchange bureaus can be weirdly picky about older bills. They’ll reject anything with the tiniest tear or too many creases, which I learned the hard way when a perfectly good twenty got turned down because of a small ink smudge. Euros work too, but the rate’s usually worse and fewer places take them.
The Practicalities of Not Going Broke While Wandering Through Samarkand and Beyond
Cash is still king in Uzbekistan, despite what the guidebooks might optimistically suggest about card acceptance spreading.
Sure, fancier hotels and some restaurants in Tashkent take Visa or Mastercard, but once you’re out in Bukhara’s old town or hiking near Chimgan, you’re basically in a cash-only universe. I’ve seen travelers get stuck because they assumed their contactless payment would work everywhere—it won’t. The ATM network is decent in cities (look for Kapitalbank, Ipoteka Bank, or Asaka Bank machines), but they’re scarce in rural areas and sometimes they just… run out of money on weekends, which is exactly as inconvenient as it sounds. Transaction fees vary wildly; some banks charge 1-2%, others hit you with a flat fee that makes small withdrawals painful.
Wait—maybe I should mention the whole credit card fraud thing that used to be rampant? It’s better now, but I still wouldn’t use cards at sketchy-looking establishments.
Understanding Exchange Offices, Hotel Desks, and Why Your Bank Back Home is Definately Not Your Friend Here
Exchange offices (called «обмен валюты» if you’re trying to read signs) are everywhere in cities, and they’re legitimate—you don’t need to resort to informal changers anymore. Hotels will exchange money too, but their rates are typically 2-5% worse than standalone exchange offices, which adds up fast when you’re converting a few hundred dollars. The best rates I’ve found were at independent exchanges near the Chorsu Bazaar in Tashkent, though honestly the difference between locations is usually pretty minimal now that everything’s official. Always count your som before leaving the counter because mistakes happen, and when you’re recieving a brick of 50,000-som notes it’s easy to lose track.
One quirk: you’ll need to show your passport for any exchange, and they’ll record the transaction in a little logbook that looks like it’s from 1987.
The Weird Reality of Prices, Budgeting, and What Things Actually Cost When You’re Not Being Ripped Off
Uzbekistan remains genuinely affordable by Western standards, though prices have crept up since tourism started booming around 2018 or so. A decent meal at a local spot might run 30,000-50,000 som (maybe $3-4), while a museum entry is often 20,000-40,000 som. Taxis are absurdly cheap if you use Yandex—I’m talking 10,000 som for rides that would cost $20 back home. Here’s where it gets tricky: tourist-focused places will sometimes quote prices in dollars, and the conversion rate they use might be… creative. Always clarify whether you’re paying in som or dollars, and honestly, just pay in som whenever possible because you’ll get a better effective rate. I guess it makes sense that vendors prefer dollars for big purchases since the som can still fluctuate, but for everyday transactions it’s unnecessary. Keep smaller bills handy because nobody ever has change for a 100,000-som note, which is annoying when you’re buying samsa from a street vendor who’s already annoyed that you’re holding up the line.
Turns out the hardest part isn’t the exchange rate or finding ATMs—it’s just adjusting to carrying around what feels like Monopoly money in quantities that make your wallet physically uncomfortable.
