by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

A troubling observation: the poorer the place, the more charming, joyous and outgoing its people tend to be. Statistically, Montreal's poorest area is Park Extension. Children there don't spontaneously hop on your bicycle or beg you to meet their granny as can happen in the Third World, but Park Ex is home to lots of casual conversation, smiles and the irrepressible energy of an immigrant landing pad.

Last week I went zooming around the area bounded by Acadie, Jarry Park, Jean-Talon and the Met with the neighbourhood boss, city councillor Mary Deros. The former executive committee member under Mayor Bourque seems to take the name of her district rather literally. She'd stop her Chevy at every rare bit of vacant land and detail a scheme to make it a green space.

"We'd like to find the money to buy that lot from the owner and turn it into a park," she notes, pointing to an empty field. "People in this area come from countries where the tradition is to spend your time in parks. A lot live in small apartments so they spend their extra hours here."

Deros stops frequently to yap with friendly constituents in Greek. It's still considered Greektown here, even though many have moved to the 'burbs and been replaced by immigrants. Who's-the-Greekest remains an important question in election campaigns and indeed former councillor Sofoklis Rasoulis tried to have Deros turfed for using her married name rather than her Armenian maiden name.

While Park Ex remains synonymous with souvlaki and Marvin's fried squid, the northern side is jammed with Sri Lankans, Sikhs and veiled Muslims. Cricket gets played in the area parks, although on this day the only sport I saw involved a half dozen young Indian children joyously mashing up some discarded gyprock. This caused Deros to briefly tsk-tsk.

Deros, a former soccer league volunteer, is married to Peter Deros, who started low on the totem pole at Mike's Submarine and transformed it from a two-restaurant job to a corporate giant. He launched his now-giant Donini's pizza chain in 1987.

She delights in pointing out homes of others like her who have resisted the temptation of the suburbs. She happily green-lighted zoning changes to allow a few small cottages to be demolished and replaced by impressive mansions. She points to them with pride. It's just a matter of time before the lower-cost apartments start attracting spillover überhip Mile Enders, although nobody was spotted on this day waltzing around wearing sandals hauling burlap DJ bags.

Since the eternal quest to revitalize the stately abandoned train station was finally accomplished, other less-conspicuous sprucing up has taken place under the quietly effective Bourque administration. A pedestrian level crossing was installed over the railway tracks behind Hingston elementary school, allowing the packed-in Park Exers an easy stroll to the sprawling fields of Jarry Park. It's the same deal that Mayor Tremblay and his councillor brother promised to Lower NDG but have since deemed impossible.

Deros points to an ugly adjacent piece of fenced-off turf soon to be the site of a bunch of new homes and road. The installation of another level crossing for cars, to be placed at the end of the field, is her next ambition.

But Park Ex still has its rough-patch charm, though nothing like that of the shooting-pad/crackhouse blight that scarred the area in the late '80s. Jarry boasts rolled-up-sleeve-type bars, such as one testosterone-intensive affair with an all-Greek clientele, as well as mirror-and-fern place famously patronized by a drunk old former boxer known to KO himself with booze.

Jarry and de Liège bear signs of more serious landlord neglect, which Deros points out as if it's a personal affront. She then details her plans to get revenge on the lazy landlords who sully the neighbourhood.

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