There are countless chances to speak different languages in Vancouver, though most of these oppertunities are one of the Chinese languages or other Asian tongues. So my high school French, blostered by living in France for a semester and staying in Montreal for a week, rarely gets a chance to stretch its legs. Today however while working at Oakridge I had a couple who offered me a choice between serving them in Spanish or French.

Since my Spanish is non-existant I decided on French and while they had to rely a bit on their limited English we were able to actually get things figured out. It always amazes me when I can pull off my French and understand someone and make myself understood. This is part of the reason I enjoy going to Quebec and a few summers ago enjoyed spending a couple of days in Paris as part of a family trip.

So I’ve decided that Vancouver needs a French Quarter, a French area of town to rival Chinatown. The existance of this thematic suburb would be mainly to indulge me and my faltering French, but with New Orleans [mbno] sinking maybe would could steal the tourist dollars for Mardi Gras.