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I had a chitchat with Rose yesterday when she and her husband, Paul, went to the school where I am teaching Business English.

We talked many things. Tubag Bohol was one of the delicious topics.

Rose admitted to me that life in Thailand has affected her prowess in the English language. "You have to use the simplest English word, you have to speak slowly so that you would be understood by your students," Rose said. "Now, I feel that my English has deteriorated," she lamented. There was an authentic sadness in her voice.

What will I say to Tubag Bohol's sex guru?

Tragically I also notice the same deterioration in myself. While living and working in the Philippines, I used to read a book a week. Sometimes two books. I lingered in coffee shops until they closed - and today I could still hear soft voices of coffee shop attendants interrupting my sweet, unlicensed repose: "Sir, sir, manira na ra ba mi. Nia ra imong libro nahulog sa salog."

I have collected almost a thousand books - all left in Bohol without my fingers caressing the pages.

If it is only possible I could transport all my books to Thailand, perhaps a reunion with missed books would rekindle my lonely affair with English, then I would be sitting with Rose and Paul, ideally at one of Bangkok's empty coffee shops, reading a novel or two until we all hear a voice saying: "Sawadeekhap, cloot na khap, kaban, kaban na khap."



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