Yap Day On The Island Of Stone Money‏

We have to admit it. We're going to have to reconsider the existence of a double-jointed hovering chicken. Mr Palma (Kalibo) who told us about the fabulous creature, had also said that when we arrived in Yap, we would be greeted by a bevy of bare-breasted, grass-skirted lovelies, and he was right. OK, so there was only one topless babe handing out leis when we arrived (plus, in this age of equality, a man in just a loin cloth) but the plane had landed at four in the morning. We would normally have considered it lucky if the Immigration Officer had smiled at that time of day.

Although it gave Vanessa, our travel agent, a lot of headaches reorganising the schedule, one of the benefits of having the Pasola brought forward was that we could go to 'The Darling of Micronesia' in time for Yap Day.

The Yapese are really proud of their culture and are clinging to it against a tide of indifference sweeping in from their American-influenced neighbours. Yap Day is a showcase of their traditions, including dance, song, dress, food and practical skills. Set in a large open space in front of a bai (men's hut) was a raised gravel track for the dances, and, just beyond, some shaded areas for the audience.

Between the bai and the dance track were some giant stone discs with holes in the centre. That was the prize money. While Yap uses the US dollar for everyday purchases, for ceremonial or bigger transactions, stone currency is still the preferred method of payment. Continental Airlines might not be too impressed if you rolled a Yapese stone coin up to the ticket counter, but an islander would lend you the cash for the fare, taking the stone as collateral.

The value of each stone coin isn't based on its size, but the story behind it - how difficult it was to obtain and how many people died in the process. For example, a stone cut from Palau's limestone caves has great value. The men who carved it would have a 10-day round trip on the open sea (if the water was calm) in an outrigger canoe and with nothing to guide them but the currents and the stars. Cutting the stone, without metal tools, could take weeks or even months. The equivalent size stone excavated on Yap would have less of a story, so much less value. Money sits outside of chief's houses or in village "banks" where the coins are displayed alongside ancient stone pathways. No wonder Yap is also known as 'the land of stone money'.

A group of teenage girls strolled past the bai and the giant coins. Their long, multi-coloured grass skirts had a shorter layer, just over the hips, that quivered and jiggled while the girls walked, accentuating the sway of their hips. The skirts look impressive but only take 30 minutes to make. Keith struggles to be dressed in that time in ready-to-wear clothes! When we asked if the skirts were comfortable, the ladies said they were great. The main advantage is that they can sit anywhere, even where the ground is wet.

And they were, the palm-frond-shaded areas were packed with grass-skirted women, all sat on the ground, while the tourists opted for chairs under a tin-roofed gazebo. Most of the local women wore floral or leaf necklaces and garlands in their hair. When a girl reaches puberty, a string is tied loosely around her neck, with one end down her back, emphasising the curve of her spine, and the other down her front between her breasts. Perversely, for us prudish Westerners, wearing nothing on the top half is considered perfectly acceptable in Yap, but if a woman shows even an inch of her thigh, it is thought to be vulgar. But it wasn't just the ladies in traditional dress.

Young children followed suit, Huggies peaked out from beneath a grass skirt or red loin-cloth, while they happily played in the sun.

The men wore a high cut loin-cloth tied in intricate knots, with hibiscus stems tucked into the front and back like some kind of loose nappy. Flower or leaf garlands decorated their heads and chests making even the most macho, muscular, tattooed male look like a gentle giant.

All of the guys carried man bags - shaped like half moons and woven from a palm leaf. It's where they keep their stash of betel nut, powdered lime and leaves, for chewing. At first it's easy to think some form of facial deformity has hit the islanders, but then you realise the swelling is them all chewing a gobstopper-sized mash of betel. Children start taking the mild narcotic from 12 years old, mimicking their elders and spitting the distinctive red juice onto the ground with gusto.

But don't think that the modern world has passed the Yapese by! Along with their traditional dress, the locals wore designer sunglasses, carried mobile phones and even had flashy cameras and camcorders.

Central to Yapese culture is dance, their most advanced art form, and when we arrived the performances had already started. A group of 40 or so women and girls were knelt in a line on the black gravel track in front of the bai. All wore matching grass skirts, but each dancer had added their own individual touches. We struggled to find the right words to describe the 'dance', but the book on Yap we'd bought from the information booth did it far better than we ever could. 'It starts with a clap, repeated over and over until the rhythm is established. From the middle of the line a single voice emits a rasping wail in a forgotten tongue. The microphone echoes her voice across the festival ground. A chorus of voices joins in the chant. In unison the dancers slap the ground, twisting and turning their arms into beautiful shapes. Each dance tells a story and its presentation is precise, even though the tale is sung in an ancient language and that no one is certain of the actual meaning any more.'

The Ladies Sitting Dance was followed by the Bamboo Dance with both male and female dancers - or should that be combatants? The dance is more like a fight as the dancers energetically clash bamboo poles. Replacement poles are on hand for the overly enthusiastic. Sweat was soon running down the dancers' bodies, mingling with the oil and turmeric that had been rubbed into their skin as part of their outfit. It made the islanders look slightly jaundiced. Each dance lasted for about 30 minutes and was interspersed with short, abrupt pauses. The dancing and singing simply stops, the dancers regain their breath and start all over again, often repeating the previous 'verse' with only minor changes.

In between dances, we were entertained by one of the strangest and most hard-fought relay races we have ever witnessed. The first team member had to climb a betel nut palm, cut a branch of fruit and get back to the ground before the second, a lady, could start weaving a basket from a palm leaf. Once she'd finished, the third de-husked five coconuts. The haul was then put in the basket, which the last team member ran to the finish line with. Now that's what you call an individual medley.

At the free-tasting food stalls, we sampled some delicious local fare including a very tasty Mangrove Crab soup. Seeing Jan struggling to get the meat out of the shell, the bare-breasted middle aged lady behind the counter showed her how to do it. She picked up a claw, placed it between her teeth and bit down hard, cracking the shell into pieces. She offered a claw for Jan to try but she declined. She was worried about breaking a tooth. Instead she used the smallest half of the claw as a makeshift fork.

In one of those super surreal moments, a cultural exchange group of Chinese musicians and entertainers had been invited to perform at Yap Day. Seeing a lady dressed head to foot in figure-hugging Chinese silks, with gold sparkly high-healed shoes, playing a kind of cello for the keenly attentive, half-dressed islanders, is an image we will long remember.

Yap uses English for official business, even though it has several native languages, so the Chinese troupe's presenter introduced each act in the language he hoped most would understand. "When the Bamboo Dance was performed in China," he proudly announced "we were deeply depressed". The poor man was mortified when he was told of his error, and spent the next two introductions profusely apologising.

That night, by fire and star light, we watched a men's dance. It had been billed as being very special as it was rarely performed. The dancers' bodies glistened with oil and the co-ordinated pelvic thrusts left the audience in no doubt as to its meaning. The ladies forgot all decorum and moved closer to the dance floor, laughing as they watched the men's bawdy antics.

On the bus back to the resort, we reflected on our experience of Yap Day. We agreed that it is a wonderfully innocent festival, harking back to the early days when European explorers first discovered the Pacific islands. The time when Gaugain got so smitten by the colourful flowers and friendly bare-breasted maidens that he decided to stay.

While we waited at the airport for the security desk to open (it's run by the same people who do the check-in), we spotted some ladies who had come to greet the incoming flight. It was time for another group of lucky tourists to receive Yap's exceptional welcome.