Overview:
Discover Palau’s hidden musical heritage! Jim Geselbracht, aka Ngirchoureng, brings to life songs from 1915–1960s in his new book Adidil er a Klechibelau. From tales of love and heartbreak to village life and laughter, these melodies preserve the stories of generations past.
By: Summer Kennard
KOROR, Palau (December 8, 2025)— “As a young man, the songs of our youth stay with us,” said Jim Geselbracht aka Ngirchoureng. “They become the soundtrack of a movie. When we hear them again, we remember the emotions.”
What began as curiosity became a decades-long effort to gather, translate, and preserve Palau’s earliest songs, many of which were already slipping from living memory. Now compiled in Jim Geselbracht AKA Ngirchoureng’s book, Adidil er a Klechibelau, these songs from 1915 to the late 1960s document the emotional lives, humor, heartbreaks, and cultural shifts experienced by Palauans across generations.
For the Belau National Museum, the book is more than a reference- it is a cultural bridge.
“It is very important,” said Pia Morey, Director of the Belau National Museum. “It shows we can tell our stories through music, like the song about a lost brother. We are truly grateful that Jim was able to capture these. His book was written out of love, and future generations of Palauan musicians can learn from it.”
Ngirchoureng lived in Palau and Yap from 1980 to 1984, working first in Public Works as a Water Systems Engineer and later operating his own consulting service. During those years, he fell in love with Palauan cha-cha music—especially the “oldies” that carried deep nostalgia for local listeners.
He remembers his first nights in Koror, sitting in bars and lounges where bands plugged electric guitars into humming amps. At first, he admits, he thought he would struggle with the music. “I thought, ‘Oh my God… I have to listen to this for the next two years,’” he recalled in a Palau Wave Radio interview. But slowly, the songs began to speak to him – melodies tied to youth, love, memory, and the emotional rhythms of Palauan life.
“As a young man, the songs of our youth stay with us,” he said. “They become the soundtrack of a movie. When we hear them again, we remember the emotions.”
Although a civil engineer by trade, Ngirchoureng had always been a musician – playing mandolin, fiddle, and guitar since childhood. His musical ear and his growing understanding of the Palauan language eventually guided him toward documenting Palau’s oldest compositions.
According to his research, 83% of the songs in the collection revolve around the drama of courtship, love, and marriage – a testament to the emotional and social centrality of relationships in Palauan storytelling.
Early Songs, Deep Histories
Becheserrak (1936)
Becheserrak, recorded in 1936 in Ngeremlengui by Muranushi and sung by a female chorus. The song is narrated from the perspective of a person banished to Ngerur island because of leprosy (ngilel a chelid el rakt).
The lyrics express loneliness, fragile hearts, and the despair of an illness with no cure at the time. Clues in the verses reveal that the singer is from Kayangel, described poetically as medebes a cheuchelel- the place where the big and small channels split before reaching the northern atoll.
Historical notes add depth to the narrative: during Japanese administration, small passenger ships like the Midori-maru and Chichibu-maru ferried people and cargo weekly between Koror, Babeldaob, and Kayangel. For someone exiled to Ngerur, these boats represented the movement of life passing by- life they could no longer join.
Becheserrak stands as a rare musical testimony of pain, exclusion, and humanity during a difficult era.
Adidil Eng Kebesengei (1956)
While many Palauan songs center on heartbreak, this 1956 composition offers something rare- a love-free drama rooted in everyday life.
Originally credited to “Kodep K.” in several songbooks, multiple elders confirmed that the true composer was Kebekol Alfonso, who wrote the song for his wife, Rose. The setting is a lively one: by the mid-1950s, jeeps had become common in Palau due to American influence after World War II. Driving- doraib- became a popular pastime for young people cruising around Koror’s hotspots.
But for the singer of Adidil Eng Kebesengei, there is one problem: everyone else has a jeep- except him. His friends race between Medalaii and Malakal, passing the now-famous curve known as “Kab er a Oldekiang,” named after driver Oldekiang Tamakong, who crashed there during one such night of joyriding. The singer, left behind and unable to join the fun, spirals into self-pity- not because of heartbreak, but because no one will give him a ride.
In 1959, a youth group from Yebukel performed the song for visiting U.S. Trust Territory officials, describing it as a reflection of “the faster life in Koror.”
Komorisang (1935)
Composed around 1935 by either young Ymesei Ezekiel or his older brother Adalbert Obak, Komorisang is one of the most charming songs in the collection- a playful reminder of how food, especially sweets, shaped daily life during Japanese times.
The subject of the song is Komorisang, a woman who catches the eye of the singer. But as soon as Korean donut-maker Kosang brings out his famous treats, the singer’s romantic thoughts vanish.
“I again asked for donuts…
Donuts are few as we eat them up,
and it excites our bodies.”
The humor reflects a real slice of life. During the 1930s, sweets like donut balls, karinto, shaved ice, and aberabang (oil bread) were precious delights. Elders remembered buying two donut balls for 5 sen, or saving coins earned from after-school jobs to purchase ice cakes from Okinawan shops.
Ngerbungs (1931–1934)
While colonial influence reshaped many aspects of Palauan life in the 1930s, traditional customs such as klechedaol- -village-to-village gatherings for games, dance, and song- continued to thrive.
In 1931, Airai performed Ngerbungs during a klechedaol visit to Aimeliik. Composed by Tmewang Ucherudel, it was an olngebel a Airai– a musical offering meant to surpass the other village’s performance. The lyrics honored Aimeliik as a kloulechad , acknowledging its role as one of the four ancestral villages created by Milad.
The respect was later returned. In 1934, Aimeliik’s Ngirchomtilou Ngemaes wrote the song Belias as a gift for Airai. The lyrics describe approaching Airai with humility but with hearts united in celebration.
Another undated praise song honors Ngeremlengui (Imeyungs), depicting the four cornerstone villages as “children” born from a single mother living at Ngeruach. These compositions reflect a time when song reinforced identity, history, and kinship between communities.
One of the earliest known compositions is Ke Dolengruul a Rechad (1915), written by a woman from Angaur named Emau. Beginning with the classic “Adidi!” the song laments heartbreak, comparing the singer’s lover to a sitting bench—where everyone stops to rest. This piece represents the birth of the Palauan derebechesiil genre.
The Rise of Modern Palauan Music
Palau’s early modern music scene blossomed in the 1950s, driven by musicians like Neterio Henry, remembered as Palau’s greatest mandolin player. Taught by his brother Tony Henry, Neterio practiced until his fingers bled, often falling asleep with his mandolin beside him.
By the late 1950s, he and his cousins formed Palau’s first organized band, the ABC Band (Angaur Boys Club), which included Anaclaytus Faustino, Carlos Salii, Kyoshi Ngirangol, Jose Itetsu, Santos Edward, and vocalist Talya Santiago.
A Cultural Gift for the Future
For Ngirchoureng, Adidil er a Klechibelau is not just a book- it is a tribute to Palau, to its culture, and to the people who sang their stories into existence. He chose the title because many Palauans told him, “The old songs are what make us Palauan.” Director Pia Morey expressed that sentiment clearly, “His book was written out of love.”
Through his work, Ngirchoureng has ensured that the voices of early Palauan singers- once nearly forgotten- will continue to echo for generations to come.
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