Two Yangons

People in Myanmar occupy less space than in other places I’ve lived. They squeeze into and on top of buses. Markets and sidewalks are rarely wide enough for everybody.

My days in Yangon begin in a narrow room at the BikeWorld guest house. The single bed takes up most of the room’s footprint. It’s tight, but I’m not complaining. Most folks in Yangon have many fewer square feet to call their own. Space is expensive here. Three-bedroom apartments downtown rarely go for less than $2,000/month. Office space commands higher rents than in Bangkok and Singapore. At the end of a contract, landlords often raise prices by as much as a third. The tight supply is expected to last a few more years. Wealthy Myanmar people use real estate in place of a bank—everyone thinks investing in land or buildings is a no-brainer.

This situation partly explains why overall contentment in the city isn’t rising. Academics who measure this stuff report that gross national happiness has dropped in Myanmar since the country began to open up. Most citizens haven’t seen much benefit. Way too many people remain poor. The construction worker building the new wing at BikeWorld still makes about $3/day, and considers himself lucky to have a job, but now he fights traffic on the way home. The rooms in the new wing will be about the same size as the one I’m in now, and at $60/night will be some of the most reasonably priced in town.

When I return from a quick visa update in Thailand next week, I’ll begin sharing a place in a new building on the northern edge of town. My American flatmate has been living there alone since July, when he signed a lease that is common in this crazy environment—the entire year’s rent upfront in Myanmar currency. Having parted with sacks full of kyat worth $14,400 for his own bedroom, another room he uses as an office, and a guest room, he soon realized that he wasn’t hosting many guests. That’s where I come in, at $500/month.