You can take the girl out of the South . . .

Yay for my first blog post! Normally it is Jordan's responsibility to update our blog, but lately I've been feeling like I should make an effort to chime in every so often, especially when I want to share a little gem that's so much easier to explain from the first person. Not to mention, I was fortunate enough to be put on call last night - the last shift of my set - and managed to get all the tedious housekeeping and laundry done that normally sucks up my first day off. With Jordan at work while I'm home alone, why not curl up on the couch with my Mac and a cup of tea? Here goes . . .

In keeping with our continued happiness here in Iqaluit and our quest to be involved in our new community, Jordan and I were excited to participate in our first ever Mass Registration this past Saturday. We had already discussed joining the Curling Club to learn the sport, which apparently has quite the following in town, as well as to see what other fun clubs/events we could participate in. Sadly, Jordan was scheduled to work Saturday so I headed over to the Cadet Hall with our new friend and fellow northern blogger Jaime. After a quick pit stop at Jaime's place where I turned green with envy over the size and luxury of her apartment vs. ours, we were ready to wait out the cold as we stood in the long line to get inside.

As a shift worker, my schedule makes it very hard to commit to things because I never have the same days off work. You wouldn't have known it on Saturday. I made short work of the booths, not only signing up for the Curling Club, but also the Badminton Club, Greenhouse Society and registering for a group trying to initiate the Green Bin program here in Iqaluit. For those that aren't familiar, Green Bins are a mandatory composting program in many regions in Ontario and other parts of Canada and aims to reduce the amount of bio-degradable waste headed to the landfills. It takes very little additional effort and has a positive environmental impact. Apparently I am such an obvious supporter of the program, that as I stood at the booth explain it's merits, I was asked to consider joining the Board! So all in all, it was a super fun morning and I'm excited to get involved in my new activities. My apologies to anyone that may have wanted to hang out with me on my days off - I now have none.

On with my story . . .

Following registration, I was high on community spirit and felt like a true Iqalumiuq (disclaimer: I truly have no idea of the proper use of that word and may very well have just made a fool of myself). Jaime and I were headed home in her sweet ride and stumbled upon the Arctic Ventures sealift sale so we popped in to take a look around.

Oh. My. Lord.

The only thought that entered my mind was this: I am a complete phony and have obviously not lived away from Ontario long enough. There is no way I was going to be fooled: $100 for a case of toilet paper is not a sale. Neither was the $89 for 14 boxes of Multi-Grain Cheerios that Jaime and I split on.

If I needed any another proof that I am still obviously a Southern belle, the icing on the cake was when I decided to splurge on the alleged sale price for Diet Coke at $10.99 for a 12 pack. A large sign reading "Case of Pop - $10.99" was placed on the wall, directly adjacent to the pop. So up to the cashier we go, where we were promptly informed that the pop was $12.99. I politely informed the cashier this could not be so, and would another employee please verify the price. I stood there, holding up the line, as the cashier and I waited for the employee to return. A few minutes later, after being called over by the cashier, the employee nonchalantly stated that the pop was in fact $12.99 and it was just an old sign. My suggestion to remove the "old sign" was met with a shoulder shrug. At this point, I was very close to throwing an Ontario tantrum. The only thing stopping me was the fact that I haven't known Jaime that long, and couldn't risk scaring off my new friend when I don't have many others here in town yet. Through clenched teeth, I told the cashier that in fact, I didn't want any pop. And that was that.

There is no way that any store in southern Canada could get away with advertising a price, mistakenly or otherwise, and then refuse to honour it. But here in Iqaluit, that's just how they roll. "It's an old sign" is a perfectly reasonable excuse, and if you want the item, you'll pay whatever they ask at the checkout. I may have refused out of spite, but the only one who suffers is me. Well Jordan too, because he's still stuck with water, milk and the powdered PC Iced Tea mix we hid in our luggage.

I'll give it a few more months before I start throwing out terms like Iqalumiuq and Nunavummiut again. I still need to look them up anyways.