
Let's keep this in proportion: Cambodia is a friendly country, most people you deal with will be straight with you, and the scams that target tourists are almost all small-money and entirely predictable. That's the good news — predictable means beatable. These are the ones still doing the rounds in 2026, how each works, and the simple habit that shuts it down.
Last updated: October 19, 2026
Nearly every tourist scam in Cambodia falls into one of seven patterns: the milk-powder plea, orphanage donation asks, tuk-tuk games, the gem shop story, border "fees", motorbike rental traps and money-change tricks. Four habits defeat almost all of them: agree every price before anything moves, pay only at official counters, never hand over your passport, and use ride-hailing apps (PassApp/Grab) instead of negotiating. Details on each below.
How it works: On Siem Reap's Pub Street and along the Phnom Penh riverside, a woman carrying a baby asks for help — not cash, she says, just formula for the baby. She leads you to a specific shop where a tin costs around $30. You pay, feel good, and walk away. The tin is then quietly returned to the shop and the money split. The baby, sadly, is often working a shift: this is an organised routine, not a one-off emergency.
The sidestep: decline politely and keep walking — no lecture, no confrontation. If the encounter stays with you and you genuinely want to help Cambodian mothers and kids, give through an established charity doing family work here. Buying the formula doesn't feed a baby; it funds the next evening's performance and keeps children out on the street doing it.
How it works: Children selling postcards or bracelets at restaurants and night markets, invitations to "visit our orphanage," requests to buy rice or school supplies for a children's home. The uncomfortable truth behind much of it: a large share of children in Cambodian orphanages have living parents, institutions that rely on tourist donations have an incentive to keep children looking needy, and donated goods are frequently resold. Your money rarely reaches the child in front of you.
The sidestep: don't buy from children (it keeps them working instead of in school), don't tour orphanages, and channel any giving to established, audited NGOs. A firm, friendly "no thank you" is a complete sentence.
Tuk-tuks are the best way to get around Cambodian cities — cheap, breezy, everywhere. The games are equally standard:
The sidestep for all of it: use PassApp or Grab in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. The fare shows upfront, the route is tracked, and the entire negotiation genre disappears. More in our Getting Around guides.
How it works: A friendly stranger — sometimes a driver, sometimes a chatty "student" or "off-duty official" — tells you about a special one-day government gem sale: buy stones today at wholesale, resell them at home for a fat profit. The shop is polished, the paperwork looks official, the "discount" is today-only. The stones are real in the sense that they exist; they're worth a small fraction of what you paid, and the resell market you've been promised does not.
The sidestep: any shop you arrive at via a stranger's tip plus a today-only story is the scam, whatever it's selling — gems, silk, tailored suits. Genuine bargains don't need a countdown. Smile, leave, and if you actually want Cambodian gems or silk, go to a fixed-price shop you chose yourself.
How it works: At land borders, touts and unofficial "visa offices" set up before the real crossing. They'll charge you to fill in forms that are free, sell you a "visa" that isn't one, or invent extras — a stamping fee, a health-check fee, a processing fee — sometimes in borrowed uniforms. By the time you reach the actual immigration window, you've paid twice. Note that the classic Thailand crossings are currently closed entirely, so today's version of this plays out at the open crossings: Bavet (from Vietnam) and Tropaeng Kreal (from Laos).
The sidestep: pay nothing to anyone until you're at the official window inside the border post. The real visa on arrival costs exactly $30 (tourist) or $35 (ordinary), the forms are free, and there is no stamping or health fee. Even simpler: both Bavet and Tropaeng Kreal accept the official eVisa — arrive with it approved and the whole sideshow has nothing to sell you.
How it works: Two parts. First, the shop asks to hold your passport as the deposit. Second, when you return the bike, pre-existing scratches and dents are suddenly your damage — and the shop has your passport, which makes arguing expensive. Variants include the bike being "stolen" by arrangement and billed to you.
The sidestep: never surrender the passport. Offer a cash deposit instead (get a receipt) and leave a photo of your passport page if they insist on ID. Before riding away, take a slow photo or video walk-around of the bike with the shop staff in frame, pointing out every existing scratch — damage that's documented before you start can't be billed to you at the end. And whatever you ride, read the motorbike clause in your travel insurance first: rentals are easy here, claims conditions are the part that bites.
Cambodia runs on two currencies at once — US dollars and riel (roughly 4,000 riel to the dollar) — and the confusion between them is where quiet money leaks happen:
Most scam losses are small. If it's a few dollars, chalk it up as tuition — arguments over small sums in the street rarely end better than walking away. For anything bigger: the police emergency number is 117, and tourist police operate in Phnom Penh, Siem Reap and Sihanoukville. If someone in plain clothes claims to be an officer and demands your passport or an on-the-spot fine, offer to settle it at the nearest station — a real officer accepts, a scammer melts away. And while insurance won't reimburse money lost to a scam, it's still the backstop for the expensive emergencies — our insurance guide covers what to buy.
One last, genuine reassurance: you'll likely meet none of this. The overwhelming majority of travelers lose nothing worse than a dollar to a cheeky fare, and Cambodians routinely go out of their way for visitors. Know the patterns, keep the habits, then relax and enjoy the place.
Overall, yes. Violent crime against tourists is rare, and most Cambodians you'll meet are straightforward and kind. The realistic risks are petty: overcharging, small-money scams and bag snatching in busy areas. The scams on this page follow a handful of predictable patterns, and knowing them in advance is most of the defense — nearly every loss comes down to a price not agreed, a counter that wasn't official, or a passport handed over.
A woman with a baby — often on Siem Reap's Pub Street or the Phnom Penh riverside — asks you to buy baby formula instead of giving cash. The tin costs around $30 at the specific shop she leads you to. After you leave, the formula is returned to the shop and the money split. The kind move is also the effective one: decline politely and, if you want to help, give through an established charity working with Cambodian families.
Short city trips in Phnom Penh usually run $2–4; short hops in Siem Reap $1–3; a full day around the Angkor temples is roughly $15–25 depending on the circuit. Tuk-tuks have no meters, so agree the total price before you get in — or skip the negotiation entirely with PassApp or Grab, which show the fare upfront.
No. Never leave your passport with a rental shop — it's your one essential document and your leverage if a damage dispute starts. Offer a cash deposit instead, and photograph or video the bike's condition, with the shop staff in frame, before you ride away. Any pre-existing scratches documented up front can't be billed to you later.
Yes — they're a classic. Touts and fake 'visa offices' before the real crossing charge for forms that are free and invent extras like stamping or health-check fees. The official visa on arrival costs $30 (tourist) or $35 (ordinary), paid at the official window inside the border post. Pay nothing to anyone before that window. Note the Thailand land borders are currently closed, so this applies at the Vietnam and Laos crossings.
Don't hand it over. Keep your passport in your hotel safe and carry a photo of it on your phone. If someone claiming to be police insists on documents or an on-the-spot 'fine,' stay polite, don't hand over cash, and offer to settle it at the nearest police station — a real officer will accept that; a scammer will lose interest. In a genuine emergency, the police number is 117.
Arriving soon? Pair this with the e-Arrival walkthrough and the rest of the Plan Your Trip guides so the practical side is sorted before you land.
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