I would have chosen Martinique

Major Grey's Mango Chutney, courtesy of Vimal Imports

I'm headed to Montreal for the weekend, to drop off my niece Sophia at a homestay, in the hopes that she will learn French. Nothing so remarkable in spending a teenage summer like this, perhaps, at least assuming you accept that the sort of nasal yak-herders dipthong stew that issues from the average Quebecker mouth might actually be characterized as French. Except for one thing: my niece lives in Paris. In France. The country. Has done, for almost two years. It turns out she spends so much time doing the Soulja Boy Dance with the rest of the expat ballers that French, so far, has turned out to be more of an ambiance than a language. However, I wish her luck!

Gray condiment of the Major's Mango, courtesy Google translate and bi-lingual Canada

Sophia, some years ago, learning her first language.