The room

For a great many working-class Thais, "home" consists of a single room and modest bathroom. Moving up usually means relocating to a bigger, better room in a nicer neighborhood ... but a room nonetheless.

Living small in Chiang Mai

Condos, apartments, houses -- those are for rich people, farangs (i.e., rich white people), and the fictional characters on Thai television.

On Tuesday I help Lian pack up and move into the more spacious digs she's found across the river for about the same money -- roughly ninety bucks a month plus utilities, which are minimal. This is not an arduous undertaking. We start around 1-ish. My big job is to walk around the corner to the mini-mart for boxes.  All the way there and into the store I practice my request in pathetic farang-speak Thai: "Mii glung mai, khrep ... mii glung mai, khrep ..." (which means, literally and Yoda-like, "Have boxes do you, please?")

"Yes, sir, how many boxes you need?" replies the shopkeeper in perfect English. Abashed we are, thank-you.

Now this is what a move should be like!

I return with six medium-size boxes and then set to work on my next important task, which involves working a New York Times crossword puzzle and staying the heck out of the way. Ninety minutes later the room is boxed and Lian calls for a truck. Or, rather ... a truck.

These small pickups, called Red Cars, are what pass for taxis and light transport in Chiang Mai. You sit on the benches that line either side of the covered bed. Our Red Car backs up to Lian's door and within 15 minutes we've got 'er packed. A 10-minute unload at the other end and our move is done by 3 o'clock.

Oh, and the cost for the Red Car plus driver/mover? Eight bucks, including tip.

New digs. Note the shoe racks by the entrance. The world stays outside.