Homesick (But Full of Sushi) - A Very Bali Christmas

9:30 AM

Carol Nelson said to the universe, "Christmas is a time when you get homesick, even when you're home"

If that’s true, what about the girl who didn’t go home at all?

I spent the first half of December doom-scrolling flight prices, stalking Surabaya food accounts, and drafting dramatic texts like, “tell my mom I miss her chili sauce.” 

I was convinced this would be the most boring Christmas of my career: no balik kampung, no cousins arguing over karaoke, no “who ate the nastar?” mystery.

Just me and my laundry.

And then… plot twist.



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I ended up spending Christmas with friends I hadn’t seen in ages.
Everyone suddenly on holiday mode in Bali, everyone with time to just hang out. 🥹✨








Sushi, gossip, and three hours of catching up

A message from Ms. Beverly Hills (her stage name in my head): “I’m in Bali!! Free tonight?”

Suddenly my calendar grew a personality. We picked Sushi Tei like the basic salmon-loving millennials we are and promised “just one hour.” 

Lies. Pure lies. 

The waitress probably aged a year orbiting us.

Sorry, mba. 😅


We ordered like two people who’d been emotionally supported by rice for years:
  1. Salmon sashimi (because vitamin S: Salmon)
  2. Chuka idako (tiny octopus, huge feelings)
  3. Spicy tuna roll (my forever toxic relationship)
  4. Aburi salmon with cheese (controversial but… I’m weak)
  5. A random “Christmas limited” roll with red-green toppings that looked like sushi went to a holiday party.
  6. Edamame & agedashi tofu (balance, besties)
  7. Free-flow ocha (hydration but make it dramatic)

Full stomachs, fuller hearts.








When Christmas does its magic


We laughed so hard I snorted twice. By the second pot of ocha, our waitress looked spiritually tired but still kind. I wanted to tip her in tempura.

“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.” — Norman Vincent Peale

Turns out my “worst Christmas ever” became the sweetest.

I missed Surabaya-the noisy kitchens, the “hey, taste this” spoons, being assigned the job of “open the jars and get out of the way.” 

But there’s something tender about staying put. 
Bali at Christmas is funny: fairy lights tangled in frangipani trees, linen outfits pretending we have winter, carols arguing with cicadas. 

Chaotic, but soft.

But there’s something tender about staying put, too. Bali at Christmas is funny: blinking lights tangled in frangipani trees, people in linen pretending we have winter, carols fighting with cicadas. 

It’s chaotic but… soft.
And I kept bumping into people I hadn’t seen in forever. 

December turned into mini-reunions: coffee with a uni friend now fluent in conspiracy theories, a late-night donut run with cousins who once watered my plant and my hopes, a street-stall chat with the sate guy whose kid just started school. 

Homesickness stopped being one dot on a map and started looking like a constellation.

And through it all, God felt very, very near.





Food notes (because obviously)
1. The agedashi tofu tried to burn me like a toxic ex. I forgave it.
2. Aburi cheese salmon: not traditional. Neither am I.
3. Ocha refills should count as a love language.
4. We almost ordered dessert, chose self-respect, then immediately bought mochi outside. Balance.


The sappy part (skip if you’re lactose intolerant to feelings)





The sappy part (skip if you’re lactose-intolerant to feelings)

I didn’t go back to Surabaya. I didn’t have the Big Family Christmas™.
I had this: a booth, a friend, and a table crowded with small, perfect things.

I went home smelling like soy sauce and happiness, opened my messages to cousins’ photos, friends’ memes, and a video of my censored singing off-key while decorating a cake (lies). 

Not what I hoped for, but real. 


Little gratitude list (because I’m that girl now)
  1. friends who book you on a random Tuesday night
  2. waitresses with endless patience and quick water refills
  3. rice, my constant companion
  4. Bali sunsets that dress up like Christmas lights
  5. the version of me who still shows up even when she’s tired

If you’re homesick, I get it. Text a friend. Order the festive sushi. Let the ocha keep coming. You’re allowed to make new traditions while you miss the old ones.

Merry (slightly chaotic, unexpectedly tender) Christmas.

See you in the new year.
ikkel

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