Even though I don’t belong to any of the native tribes in Bukidnon (my parents were migrants), I have always considered myself as a native. Until I started college, this is the only place I have ever lived in. My home is that of small towns and tight-knit neighborhoods. We are known for our agricultural produce and green mountains instead of high-rise buildings and a bustling nightlife. Seeing a cow, a goat or a horse on the side of the road is normal. Mornings are still filled with sounds of roosters and robins. It’s not that we have been left behind by the modern times, it’s that we are trying to grow without losing our roots.\n\nBukidnon is located on the southern part of the Philippines. In a country known for its hot weather, coveted beaches, and frankly terrible traffic in the capital city, we’re a landlocked province on the island group of Mindanao, thriving in the cool mountains instead. Bukidnon literally translates to “mountain dweller”. And I think we dwell here just fine.\n\nEvery February to March, our province celebrates the Kaamulan Festival, an ethnic festival celebrating the seven Lumad (indigenous people) tribes of Bukidnon. It is the only authentic ethnic festival in the country. The Bukidnon, Higaonon, Talaandig, Manobo, Matigsalug, Tigwahanon, and Umayamnon have inhabited the province long before the Spanish colonization. Even though the tribes have assimilated into modern society they have still retained their ancient practices. However, every year, it seems like the true essence of the festival is getting more and more lost. The advent of commercialization and tourism has placed the Lumad tribes in the background of the Kaamulan Festival. The month-long celebration has been recently defined by bringing in celebrities and politicians from the capital, a grandiose fireworks display, and appropriation of Lumad culture. In a festival that was supposed to celebrate the original dwellers of our home, they were put at the periphery.\n\nJust a few days ago, I visited a Talaandig community in the municipality of Lantapan to witness and participate in a river ritual called Panalawahig. It wasn’t my first time participating in a Lumad ritual, but it was my first time seeing it conducted by and on the river. I decided to do this because I wanted to document an authentic Lumad practice without the meddlesome politicians and their sleazy speeches.\n\nThe Lumads conduct a ritual for many reasons and occasions. But all of them have the intention of asking for guidance and protection from nature spirits and Magbabaya (God). The river ritual called Panalawahig, which took place last Friday, was to start the annual Talaandig Day and Indigenous Peoples Month celebration. The ritual requires offerings to the spirits, the most notable offering being native chickens. Their blood is spilled on the ground and the altar for the spirits; and they are cooked for the Panampulot, a feast where spirits are invited to partake.\n\nMy major takeaway from my short time with the Talaandig community was their graceful persistence to go on with life despite their collective struggle. Indigenous peoples sustainably manage about 50% of the world’s lands but have legal ownership rights to only 10%. They are also among the most vulnerable groups in the Philippines, and indigenous groups in my country are often killed and driven away from their ancestral lands by big corporations, paramilitary, and military. When Lumads and their allies go to the streets to protest for human rights, they are often mocked. And yet, despite all of these, they still insist to live as they always have. And why shouldn’t they? Long before strongmen regimes and oppressive systems have emerged, they were already here. And they should continue to be here.\n\nThe Talaandig and the other Lumad tribes have a rich and diverse culture. You see it in their traditional clothes with vivid colors and intricate patterns. You marvel at their visual artwork; how even a house built out of bamboo could look like something out of a whimsical fantasy movie, and how soil becomes a masterpiece in a canvas. You hear it in their music, the deep beat of the ethnic drums and the liveliness of their Binukid chants awakening the dormant dancer inside you. You feel it the moment you step foot on their ancestral lands, their solemn reverence and respect to nature apparent in their way of life. They only take what they need, and they never fail to give back. And yet they are often stereotypically labeled as the “uncivilized” when it was them who have been doing it right all along.\n\nWe are so obsessed with the idea of progress and development but is it really progress and development when it is at the expense of others? I want the kind of progress and development that does not shed the blood of the Lumads and take away their homes. I want the kind of progress and development that does not treat them as second-class citizens.\n\nWhen we were preparing to go to the river for the ritual, I heard one of the women say she’s bringing her young grandson. “Ato siyang i-uban. Dapat makabalo siya na nitibo ta.” We are bringing him with us. He should know that we are natives. I want Lumad kids to have a bright future to look forward to. I want them to freely practice their way of life, their art, music, and dances without fear of any of these being taken away from them.\n\nWhenever people from other places come to Bukidnon, I want them to know the mountains they came here to climb and the species that dwell in it are still thriving because of the Lumads, the ancient guardians of the forest.

Even though I don’t belong to any of the native tribes in Bukidnon (my parents were migrants), I have always considered myself as a native. Until I started college, this is the only place I have ever lived in. My home is that of small towns and tight-knit neighborhoods. We are known for our agricultural produce and green mountains instead of high-rise buildings and a bustling nightlife. Seeing a cow, a goat or a horse on the side of the road is normal. Mornings are still filled with sounds of roosters and robins. It’s not that we have been left behind by the modern times, it’s that we are trying to grow without losing our roots.\n\nBukidnon is located on the southern part of the Philippines. In a country known for its hot weather, coveted beaches, and frankly terrible traffic in the capital city, we’re a landlocked province on the island group of Mindanao, thriving in the cool mountains instead. Bukidnon literally translates to “mountain dweller”. And I think we dwell here just fine.\n\nEvery February to March, our province celebrates the Kaamulan Festival, an ethnic festival celebrating the seven Lumad (indigenous people) tribes of Bukidnon. It is the only authentic ethnic festival in the country. The Bukidnon, Higaonon, Talaandig, Manobo, Matigsalug, Tigwahanon, and Umayamnon have inhabited the province long before the Spanish colonization. Even though the tribes have assimilated into modern society they have still retained their ancient practices. However, every year, it seems like the true essence of the festival is getting more and more lost. The advent of commercialization and tourism has placed the Lumad tribes in the background of the Kaamulan Festival. The month-long celebration has been recently defined by bringing in celebrities and politicians from the capital, a grandiose fireworks display, and appropriation of Lumad culture. In a festival that was supposed to celebrate the original dwellers of our home, they were put at the periphery.\n\nJust a few days ago, I visited a Talaandig community in the municipality of Lantapan to witness and participate in a river ritual called Panalawahig. It wasn’t my first time participating in a Lumad ritual, but it was my first time seeing it conducted by and on the river. I decided to do this because I wanted to document an authentic Lumad practice without the meddlesome politicians and their sleazy speeches.\n\nThe Lumads conduct a ritual for many reasons and occasions. But all of them have the intention of asking for guidance and protection from nature spirits and Magbabaya (God). The river ritual called Panalawahig, which took place last Friday, was to start the annual Talaandig Day and Indigenous Peoples Month celebration. The ritual requires offerings to the spirits, the most notable offering being native chickens. Their blood is spilled on the ground and the altar for the spirits; and they are cooked for the Panampulot, a feast where spirits are invited to partake.\n\nMy major takeaway from my short time with the Talaandig community was their graceful persistence to go on with life despite their collective struggle. Indigenous peoples sustainably manage about 50% of the world’s lands but have legal ownership rights to only 10%. They are also among the most vulnerable groups in the Philippines, and indigenous groups in my country are often killed and driven away from their ancestral lands by big corporations, paramilitary, and military. When Lumads and their allies go to the streets to protest for human rights, they are often mocked. And yet, despite all of these, they still insist to live as they always have. And why shouldn’t they? Long before strongmen regimes and oppressive systems have emerged, they were already here. And they should continue to be here.\n\nThe Talaandig and the other Lumad tribes have a rich and diverse culture. You see it in their traditional clothes with vivid colors and intricate patterns. You marvel at their visual artwork; how even a house built out of bamboo could look like something out of a whimsical fantasy movie, and how soil becomes a masterpiece in a canvas. You hear it in their music, the deep beat of the ethnic drums and the liveliness of their Binukid chants awakening the dormant dancer inside you. You feel it the moment you step foot on their ancestral lands, their solemn reverence and respect to nature apparent in their way of life. They only take what they need, and they never fail to give back. And yet they are often stereotypically labeled as the “uncivilized” when it was them who have been doing it right all along.\n\nWe are so obsessed with the idea of progress and development but is it really progress and development when it is at the expense of others? I want the kind of progress and development that does not shed the blood of the Lumads and take away their homes. I want the kind of progress and development that does not treat them as second-class citizens.\n\nWhen we were preparing to go to the river for the ritual, I heard one of the women say she’s bringing her young grandson. “Ato siyang i-uban. Dapat makabalo siya na nitibo ta.” We are bringing him with us. He should know that we are natives. I want Lumad kids to have a bright future to look forward to. I want them to freely practice their way of life, their art, music, and dances without fear of any of these being taken away from them.\n\nWhenever people from other places come to Bukidnon, I want them to know the mountains they came here to climb and the species that dwell in it are still thriving because of the Lumads, the ancient guardians of the forest.

Even though I don’t belong to any of the native tribes in Bukidnon (my parents were migrants), I have always considered myself as a native. Until I started college, this is the only place I have ever lived in. My home is that of small towns and tight-knit neighborhoods. We are known for our agricultural produce and green mountains instead of high-rise buildings and a bustling nightlife. Seeing a cow, a goat or a horse on the side of the road is normal. Mornings are still filled with sounds of roosters and robins. It’s not that we have been left behind by the modern times, it’s that we are trying to grow without losing our roots.\n\nBukidnon is located on the southern part of the Philippines. In a country known for its hot weather, coveted beaches, and frankly terrible traffic in the capital city, we’re a landlocked province on the island group of Mindanao, thriving in the cool mountains instead. Bukidnon literally translates to “mountain dweller”. And I think we dwell here just fine.\n\nEvery February to March, our province celebrates the Kaamulan Festival, an ethnic festival celebrating the seven Lumad (indigenous people) tribes of Bukidnon. It is the only authentic ethnic festival in the country. The Bukidnon, Higaonon, Talaandig, Manobo, Matigsalug, Tigwahanon, and Umayamnon have inhabited the province long before the Spanish colonization. Even though the tribes have assimilated into modern society they have still retained their ancient practices. However, every year, it seems like the true essence of the festival is getting more and more lost. The advent of commercialization and tourism has placed the Lumad tribes in the background of the Kaamulan Festival. The month-long celebration has been recently defined by bringing in celebrities and politicians from the capital, a grandiose fireworks display, and appropriation of Lumad culture. In a festival that was supposed to celebrate the original dwellers of our home, they were put at the periphery.\n\nJust a few days ago, I visited a Talaandig community in the municipality of Lantapan to witness and participate in a river ritual called Panalawahig. It wasn’t my first time participating in a Lumad ritual, but it was my first time seeing it conducted by and on the river. I decided to do this because I wanted to document an authentic Lumad practice without the meddlesome politicians and their sleazy speeches.\n\nThe Lumads conduct a ritual for many reasons and occasions. But all of them have the intention of asking for guidance and protection from nature spirits and Magbabaya (God). The river ritual called Panalawahig, which took place last Friday, was to start the annual Talaandig Day and Indigenous Peoples Month celebration. The ritual requires offerings to the spirits, the most notable offering being native chickens. Their blood is spilled on the ground and the altar for the spirits; and they are cooked for the Panampulot, a feast where spirits are invited to partake.\n\nMy major takeaway from my short time with the Talaandig community was their graceful persistence to go on with life despite their collective struggle. Indigenous peoples sustainably manage about 50% of the world’s lands but have legal ownership rights to only 10%. They are also among the most vulnerable groups in the Philippines, and indigenous groups in my country are often killed and driven away from their ancestral lands by big corporations, paramilitary, and military. When Lumads and their allies go to the streets to protest for human rights, they are often mocked. And yet, despite all of these, they still insist to live as they always have. And why shouldn’t they? Long before strongmen regimes and oppressive systems have emerged, they were already here. And they should continue to be here.\n\nThe Talaandig and the other Lumad tribes have a rich and diverse culture. You see it in their traditional clothes with vivid colors and intricate patterns. You marvel at their visual artwork; how even a house built out of bamboo could look like something out of a whimsical fantasy movie, and how soil becomes a masterpiece in a canvas. You hear it in their music, the deep beat of the ethnic drums and the liveliness of their Binukid chants awakening the dormant dancer inside you. You feel it the moment you step foot on their ancestral lands, their solemn reverence and respect to nature apparent in their way of life. They only take what they need, and they never fail to give back. And yet they are often stereotypically labeled as the “uncivilized” when it was them who have been doing it right all along.\n\nWe are so obsessed with the idea of progress and development but is it really progress and development when it is at the expense of others? I want the kind of progress and development that does not shed the blood of the Lumads and take away their homes. I want the kind of progress and development that does not treat them as second-class citizens.\n\nWhen we were preparing to go to the river for the ritual, I heard one of the women say she’s bringing her young grandson. “Ato siyang i-uban. Dapat makabalo siya na nitibo ta.” We are bringing him with us. He should know that we are natives. I want Lumad kids to have a bright future to look forward to. I want them to freely practice their way of life, their art, music, and dances without fear of any of these being taken away from them.\n\nWhenever people from other places come to Bukidnon, I want them to know the mountains they came here to climb and the species that dwell in it are still thriving because of the Lumads, the ancient guardians of the forest.

Even though I don’t belong to any of the native tribes in Bukidnon (my parents were migrants), I have always considered myself as a native. Until I started college, this is the only place I have ever lived in. My home is that of small towns and tight-knit neighborhoods. We are known for our agricultural produce and green mountains instead of high-rise buildings and a bustling nightlife. Seeing a cow, a goat or a horse on the side of the road is normal. Mornings are still filled with sounds of roosters and robins. It’s not that we have been left behind by the modern times, it’s that we are trying to grow without losing our roots.\n\nBukidnon is located on the southern part of the Philippines. In a country known for its hot weather, coveted beaches, and frankly terrible traffic in the capital city, we’re a landlocked province on the island group of Mindanao, thriving in the cool mountains instead. Bukidnon literally translates to “mountain dweller”. And I think we dwell here just fine.\n\nEvery February to March, our province celebrates the Kaamulan Festival, an ethnic festival celebrating the seven Lumad (indigenous people) tribes of Bukidnon. It is the only authentic ethnic festival in the country. The Bukidnon, Higaonon, Talaandig, Manobo, Matigsalug, Tigwahanon, and Umayamnon have inhabited the province long before the Spanish colonization. Even though the tribes have assimilated into modern society they have still retained their ancient practices. However, every year, it seems like the true essence of the festival is getting more and more lost. The advent of commercialization and tourism has placed the Lumad tribes in the background of the Kaamulan Festival. The month-long celebration has been recently defined by bringing in celebrities and politicians from the capital, a grandiose fireworks display, and appropriation of Lumad culture. In a festival that was supposed to celebrate the original dwellers of our home, they were put at the periphery.\n\nJust a few days ago, I visited a Talaandig community in the municipality of Lantapan to witness and participate in a river ritual called Panalawahig. It wasn’t my first time participating in a Lumad ritual, but it was my first time seeing it conducted by and on the river. I decided to do this because I wanted to document an authentic Lumad practice without the meddlesome politicians and their sleazy speeches.\n\nThe Lumads conduct a ritual for many reasons and occasions. But all of them have the intention of asking for guidance and protection from nature spirits and Magbabaya (God). The river ritual called Panalawahig, which took place last Friday, was to start the annual Talaandig Day and Indigenous Peoples Month celebration. The ritual requires offerings to the spirits, the most notable offering being native chickens. Their blood is spilled on the ground and the altar for the spirits; and they are cooked for the Panampulot, a feast where spirits are invited to partake.\n\nMy major takeaway from my short time with the Talaandig community was their graceful persistence to go on with life despite their collective struggle. Indigenous peoples sustainably manage about 50% of the world’s lands but have legal ownership rights to only 10%. They are also among the most vulnerable groups in the Philippines, and indigenous groups in my country are often killed and driven away from their ancestral lands by big corporations, paramilitary, and military. When Lumads and their allies go to the streets to protest for human rights, they are often mocked. And yet, despite all of these, they still insist to live as they always have. And why shouldn’t they? Long before strongmen regimes and oppressive systems have emerged, they were already here. And they should continue to be here.\n\nThe Talaandig and the other Lumad tribes have a rich and diverse culture. You see it in their traditional clothes with vivid colors and intricate patterns. You marvel at their visual artwork; how even a house built out of bamboo could look like something out of a whimsical fantasy movie, and how soil becomes a masterpiece in a canvas. You hear it in their music, the deep beat of the ethnic drums and the liveliness of their Binukid chants awakening the dormant dancer inside you. You feel it the moment you step foot on their ancestral lands, their solemn reverence and respect to nature apparent in their way of life. They only take what they need, and they never fail to give back. And yet they are often stereotypically labeled as the “uncivilized” when it was them who have been doing it right all along.\n\nWe are so obsessed with the idea of progress and development but is it really progress and development when it is at the expense of others? I want the kind of progress and development that does not shed the blood of the Lumads and take away their homes. I want the kind of progress and development that does not treat them as second-class citizens.\n\nWhen we were preparing to go to the river for the ritual, I heard one of the women say she’s bringing her young grandson. “Ato siyang i-uban. Dapat makabalo siya na nitibo ta.” We are bringing him with us. He should know that we are natives. I want Lumad kids to have a bright future to look forward to. I want them to freely practice their way of life, their art, music, and dances without fear of any of these being taken away from them.\n\nWhenever people from other places come to Bukidnon, I want them to know the mountains they came here to climb and the species that dwell in it are still thriving because of the Lumads, the ancient guardians of the forest.

The Babadok is a traditional percussion instrument of Timor-Leste, central to the soundscape of communal dance, ritual, and celebration. With its deep, resonant rhythm, the babadok doesn’t just keep time—it sets the emotional pulse of an event, weaving together the steps of dancers, the cadence of songs, and the energy of the gathered community.\n\nTypically made from a hollowed-out log or wooden tube covered at both ends with animal skin—often goat or cowhide—the babadok is lightweight and portable. Struck with the hands or sometimes with short wooden sticks, it produces a sharp, dry beat that is both grounding and expressive. The drumheads are stretched tightly and tied securely with natural fiber ropes, sometimes decorated with paint or carved patterns. Over time, each instrument develops its own distinct tone, shaped by use, climate, and craftsmanship.\n\nIn traditional ceremonies, particularly dances like tebe-tebe or tebe-lilin, the babadok is the heartbeat of the performance. It provides tempo, signals changes in movement, and helps dancers synchronize their steps. More than a musical tool, the babadok becomes a channel through which emotions—joy, sorrow, gratitude—are communicated and shared. During ritual gatherings, it may accompany singing, recitation of oral histories, or moments of spiritual invocation.\n\nThe instrument is most often played by women, though in some regions both men and women participate. Its accessibility is part of its charm—anyone with rhythm, respect, and a sense of the tradition can learn to play. Children often grow up hearing the babadok played at family ceremonies or village festivals, absorbing its patterns and rhythms before they ever try it themselves.\n\nCrafting a babadok is itself an act of cultural care. The choice of wood, the drying and stretching of the skins, and the tying of the drum all follow methods passed down through generations. Elders often guide young artisans in this process, emphasizing not just the technique but the responsibility that comes with creating something used in sacred and social spaces.\n\nDespite its enduring importance, the babadok—like many traditional instruments—faces challenges in modern times. Mass-produced drums and changing musical preferences mean that fewer young people are learning to make or play it. Still, efforts are being made to preserve the tradition, with community performances, school programs, and cultural events placing the instrument back at the center of public life.\n\nIn the rhythm of the babadok, one can hear more than music: it is the sound of continuity, of people moving together, of ancestors remembered and futures imagined. Whether echoing across a dusty dance circle or softly beating in a sacred house, the babadok remains a powerful symbol of Timor-Leste’s living heritage.

Rooted in the ancestral traditions of the Fatumea and Fohorem communities in Covalima Municipality, Tebe Otas-Uluk is more than a dance—it is a collective act of memory, identity, and reverence. The name itself combines “tebe” (a traditional line dance) with Otas (ancestor) and Uluk (first or origin), signaling a ritual expression dedicated to those who came before.\n\nTraditionally performed by the elders of the community, this dance takes place during important communal gatherings such as ceremonies of healing, protection, thanksgiving, or agricultural celebration. Participants often wear traditional attire and move in side-by-side formations, linked by hands or shoulders, stepping rhythmically in unison to the beat of local drums, gongs, or the babadok (a hand-held percussion instrument). The dance circle forms a symbolic space where the living and the spirits of the ancestors meet.\n\nWhat sets Tebe Otas-Uluk apart is its solemn and purposeful character. The movement vocabulary is simple yet powerful: synchronized steps, grounded footwork, and fluid arm gestures that flow with the communal rhythm. Songs are chanted throughout the dance in the Tetun-Terik language, often carrying metaphorical meanings related to the land, family, and the ancestors’ wisdom. The lyrics function as oral archives, preserving knowledge and history that is not written but remembered through voice and motion.\n\nBecause of its deep spiritual roots, this dance is only performed on specific occasions, often after traditional leaders conduct consultations with spiritual entities or conduct rituals to prepare the ground. Each gesture, each chant, is believed to activate a connection to the ancestral realm—inviting blessings, healing, or protection for the community.\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has become increasingly rare, with fewer young people learning the movements or understanding the embedded meanings. Despite this, dedicated elders continue to lead and teach the dance, ensuring its survival as a living heritage. For them, Tebe Otas-Uluk is not simply a performance—it is a prayer in motion, a ceremony that anchors the community to its origins and affirms its cultural continuity.

Elegant, joyful, and rooted in everyday village life, Bidu Lensu-Mutin—the White Handkerchief Dance—is one of the most beloved traditional dances in the Suai Loro community of Covalima, Timor-Leste. Performed by young girls with white scarves in hand, the dance is a celebration of welcome, harmony, and feminine grace, passed from mother to daughter over generations.\n\nThe name lensu-mutin comes from the Tetun words for “white handkerchief,” which the dancers carry as they move in coordinated steps and gestures. The origin story, widely shared in oral tradition, speaks of seven girls who danced with white scarves to welcome their community members back from a corn harvest. Their spontaneous joy and coordinated movements captured the spirit of unity and gratitude, and the dance has been cherished ever since.\n\nPerformed during weddings, religious celebrations, community gatherings, and rituals involving sacred houses (uma lulik), Bidu Lensu-Mutin carries layers of meaning. The white scarf symbolizes purity, blessing, and good intentions. Dancers use it to wave, twirl, and gesture in graceful arcs, often moving in circular or serpentine formations that reflect the flowing rhythm of traditional life.\n\nAccompanied by soft babadok drumming and gentle singing in the Tetun-Terik language, the dance creates an atmosphere of warmth and welcome. The songs, often metaphorical, may include blessings for the couple in a wedding, prayers for peace in a community, or expressions of joy and connection. In some versions of the performance, older women sing while the younger girls dance, creating a multigenerational moment of transmission.\n\nLearning the dance happens organically within families and the community. Young girls imitate their older sisters, mothers, and aunts at ceremonies or home gatherings. In recent years, schools have also incorporated the dance into cultural programs and performances, ensuring its continued presence in the lives of younger generations.\n\nWhat sets Bidu Lensu-Mutin apart is its gentle spirit and universal appeal. It does not require elaborate costumes or formal training—just the willingness to move together with grace and intention. The dance represents a form of cultural continuity that is deeply tied to everyday experiences and shared values: welcoming guests, honoring ancestors, and expressing collective joy.\n\nThough still widely practiced in Suai Loro and surrounding communities, cultural leaders recognize the importance of continued teaching and celebration. As modern influences shape young people’s interests and identities, Bidu Lensu-Mutin offers a graceful reminder of the beauty found in tradition and the strength found in unity.

Performed with grace, dignity, and deep cultural symbolism, Tebe-Lilin is a traditional dance that brings together members of a community in shared celebration, remembrance, and expression. It is practiced in several regions of Timor-Leste and is especially known for its emphasis on unity and peaceful co-existence.\n\nThe word “tebe” refers to a communal line or circle dance, while “lilin” translates as candle or light. Together, the name evokes the image of people dancing around a source of light—both literal and symbolic—illuminating shared values such as harmony, hope, and continuity. Historically, dancers would carry actual candles or use candlenuts wrapped in cotton, creating a flickering trail of light as they moved through the night.\n\nTebe-Lilin* is performed by groups of men and women—young and old—who link arms or shoulders and form lines or circles. They move rhythmically in unison, stepping to the beat of babadok drums and chanting in call-and-response style. The songs are often poetic and metaphorical, expressing themes of love, sorrow, longing, and reconciliation. Each verse is rich with meaning, serving not just as entertainment but as oral literature passed from generation to generation.\n\nThe dance is deeply woven into ceremonial life. It features prominently during sau-batar (corn harvest celebrations), barlake (marriage exchanges), community healing rituals, and memorial events. In each setting, Tebe-Lilin helps strengthen the spiritual and emotional ties among participants. Its circular form is believed to create balance and connection, while the singing creates a space for open emotional expression—an opportunity to share joys and wounds alike.\n\nIn some versions of the dance, the use of light is entirely symbolic. The “candle” represents the enduring spirit of the ancestors, the resilience of the community, or the moral light that guides people through challenges. The act of dancing around it becomes a ritual of reaffirmation—a moment when the community collectively reflects on its path forward while honoring its roots.\n\nThough Tebe-Lilin remains alive in certain communities, it faces challenges. Younger generations are increasingly detached from these communal traditions, and the ritual contexts in which the dance once thrived are becoming less frequent. Elders and cultural leaders continue to play a vital role in teaching the songs, movements, and meanings behind the dance, often through village gatherings, church events, and cultural festivals.\n\nIn its form and spirit, Tebe-Lilin exemplifies intangible cultural heritage at its finest: it is an art form, a social practice, and a vehicle for transmitting identity. Every time the dance is performed, it brings light—not just to the night, but to the hearts and memories of those who dance and watch.

ICH Video Production in the Asia-Pacific Region : Central Asia\n\nRapid urbanization and westernization are changing the environments in which intangible cultural heritage is rooted. The importance of documentation that traces the effect of social changes on intangible cultural heritage is being emphasized as a safeguarding measure. Quality video documentation is an important resource that enables the conservation and transmission of existing intangible cultural heritage and raises its visibility.\n\nVideo documentation is the best medium to record intangible cultural heritage in the most lifelike manner, using the latest technologies. It is also an effective tool for communicating with the public. However, conditions for video production in the Asia-Pacific remain poor, requiring extensive support for quality video documentation.\n\nICHCAP has been working to build the safeguarding capabilities of Member States and raise the visibility of intangible cultural heritage in the Asia-Pacific by supporting the true-to-life documentation of intangible cultural heritage as this heritage is practiced and cooperating with experts, communities, and NGOs in related fields.\n\nSince 2010, ICHCAP has hosted annual Central Asian sub-regional network meetings with Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Mongolia to support the ICH safeguarding activities of Central Asia. Through their collaboration, ICHCAP has supported projects involving collecting ICH information, producing ICH websites, and constructing ICH video archives.\n\nAt the Sixth Central Asia Sub-regional Network Meeting in Jeonju in 2015, ICHCAP, four Central Asian countries, and Mongolia adopted a second three-year cooperation project plan on producing ICH videos to enhance the visibility of ICH in Central Asia.\n\nICHCAP developed guidelines and training programs for the project and invited video and ICH experts from the participating countries, and held a workshop in November 2015. After the workshop, focal points for the project were designated in each country, and each focal point organization formed an expert meeting and a video production team to produce ICH videos.\n\nInterim reports were submitted to ICHCAP in February 2016, and the first preview screening was held in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, during the Seventh Central Asia Sub-regional Network Meeting in May 2016. Since then, each country has carried out the project according to the project plan. ICHCAP met with each country between October 2016 to February 2017 to check on the project progress.\n\nAfter the final preview screening during the Eighth Central Asia Sub-regional Network Meeting in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, in 2017, final editing process took place in each country, and fifty ICH videos were completed by October 2017.\n\nAll photos introduced on this page along with fifty ICH videos are from the exhibition 'Living Heritage: Wisdom of Life' held in the Republic of Kyrgyzstan and the Republic of Korea. Designed for introducing various ICH in the five countries, this exhibition shows photos on representative twenty elements in each country collected during the process of on-site survey and documentation for ICH Video Production Project in Central Asia by experts participated in the ICH video production project.\n\nICHCAP will continue its ICH documentation projects in the Asia-Pacific region for the next ten years by expanding the scope from Central Asia and Mongolia to Southeast Asia, Southwest Asia, and the Pacific.\n\n\nPartners\nMongolian National Commission for UNESCO • National Commission of the Kyrgyz Republic for UNESCO • National Commission of the Republic of Kazakhstan for UNESCO and ISESCO • National Commission of the Republic of Uzbekistan for UNESCO • National Commission of the Republic of Tajikistan for UNESCO • Foundation for the Protection of Natural and Cultural Heritage Mongolia • National Committee for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage under the National Commission of the Republic of Kazakhstan for UNESCO and ISESCO • School of Fine Art and Technical Design named after Abylkhan Kasteyev • State Institute of Arts and Culture of Uzbekistan • Tajik film • Tajikistan Research Institute of Culture Information • Korea Educational Broadcasting System • Asia Culture Center\n\nSupporters\nUNESCO Almaty and Tashkent Cluster Offices • Cultural Heritage Administration • Panasonic Korea • Turkish Airlines

Intangible cultural heritage (ICH) is transnational in nature. It is necessary to spread the perception that ICH transcends geographical spaces and national borders, creating dynamic relations, connectedness, and continuity, which is why it is a timeless bearer of cultural diversity, the foundation of the heritage of humanity. However, as the modern structure of nation-state determines the boundaries of culture with national borders, forming the concept of “culture within the country”, subsequently led to the perception that the ownership of culture belongs to the state.\n\nThe concept of exclusive ownership of culture is often controversial in the UNESCO listing process, particularly in instances where cultural heritage and cultural domains have been shared for a long time by two or more nation-states. Such conflicts lead to excessive competition for nomination, overshadowing UNESCO’s fundamental purpose of contributing to peace and security in the world by promoting collaboration among nations, as well as the very spirit of the 2003 Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage that promotes international cooperation and assistance in the safeguarding of ICH as a matter of general interest to humanity.\n\nConsequently, UNESCO encourages multinational inscriptions of shared intangible cultural heritage to promote regional cooperation and international safeguarding activities, preventing conflicts among countries and coping with already existing ones. By emphasizing joint nominations of shared ICH, UNESCO revised its implementation guidelines three times to deal with conflicts between countries due to the cultural property rights. In addition, States Parties are encouraged to develop networks among relevant communities, experts, professional centres, and research institutes, particularly with regard to their ICH, to cooperate at the sub-regional and regional levels.\n\nAt the 13th Intergovernmental Committee for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage held in the Republic of Mauritius in November 2018, Traditional Korean Wrestling was inscribed on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity as the first joint designation by the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea and Republic of Korea. This milestone in the life of the Convention demonstrates that ICH contributes to the peace-building, reconciliation, mutual understanding, and solidarity among peoples. Indeed, only when acknowledging that shared cultural values are empowering characteristics of ICH, the true perspective of the unifying agent of the cultural diversity can be achieved, and that it is the cornerstone of reaching peace among nations.\n\nCountries in the Asia Pacific region are deeply connected by a long history of interactions, exchanges, flows of people, goods, and ideas that have shaped shared values, practices, and traditions. Having a balanced view, advocating for cultural diversity, and recognizing the commonalities among individuals, communities, and countries as a strength are virtuous tenets in the present time.\n\nIn this regard, APHEN-ICH Secretariat, ICHCAP, and UNESCO Bangkok Office are inviting the APHEN-ICH member institutes and public to this seminar under the theme of Diversity and Distinctiveness: Looking into the Shared ICH in the Asia-Pacific, to re-assess that while fragile, intangible cultural heritage is an important factor in maintaining cultural diversity, connecting bounds, and enhancing international dialogue and peace.

On 12 and 13 November 2020, ICHCAP and the ICH NGO Forum virtually held the 2020 ICH NGO Conference entitled “ICH and Resilience in Crisis.” The fifteen participants, including eleven selected presenters from ten countries around the world, discussed various cases and activities of each country applied under the Corona-era, and proposed solidarity for the resilience of ICH for a ‘New Normal.’\n\nSession 1: In the Vortex: COVID-19 Era, Roles of NGOs to Safeguard ICH\n\nSpecial Lecture 1: 'Resilience System Analysis' by Roberto Martinez Yllescas, Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) in Mexico\n1. 'Uncovering the veil of immaterial cultural heritage towards and autonomous management of well-being as well as cultural and territorial preservation' by Carolina Bermúdez, Fundación Etnollano\n2. 'Holistic Development Model of Community-Based Intangible Cultural Heritage of Yuen Long District in Hong Kong of China' by Kai-kwong Choi, Life Encouraging Fund \n3. 'Indigenous Knowledge System as a vector in combating COVID-19' by Allington Ndlovu, Amagugu International Heritage Centre\n4. 'Enlivening Dyeing Tradition and ICH: The initiative of ARHI in North East of India' by Dibya Jyoti Borah, President, ARHI\n\nSession 2: Homo Ludens vs. Home Ludens: Changed Features COVID-19 Brought\n\n1. 'The Popular Reaction to COVID-19 from the Intangible Cultural Heritage among Member Cities of the ICCN' by Julio Nacher, ICCN Secretariat, Algemesi, Spain\n2. 'Innovation for Arts and Cultural Education Amid a Pandemic' by Jeff M. Poulin, Creative Generation\n3. 'Promoting Heritage Education through Intangible Cultural Heritage in the Kalasha Valleys of Pakistan' by Ghiasuddin Pir & Meeza Ubaid, THAAP\n4. 'Shifting to Online Activities: Digital Divide among the NGOs and ICH Communities in Korea' by Hanhee Hahm CICS\n\nSession 3: Consilience: Prototype vs. Archetype for Educational Source\n\nSpecial Lecture 2: 'Geographical imbalance: the challenge of getting a more balanced representation of accredited non-governmental organizations under the 2003 Convention' by Matti Hakamäki, Finnish Folk Music Institute\n1. 'Crafting a Post Covid-19 World: Building Greater Resilience in the Crafts Sector through Strengthening Ties with its Community’s Cultural System' by Joseph Lo, World Crafts Council International\n2. 'Arts and Influence: Untangling Corporate Engagement in the Cultural Sector' by Nicholas Pozek, Asian Legal Programs, Columbia University\n3. 'ICH in the South-Western Alps: Empowering Communities through Youth Education on Nature and Cultural Practices' by Alessio Re & Giulia Avanza, Santagata Foundation for the Economy of Culture\n\n

Marriage to the Nùng ethnic minority is not merely that of a couple but has a greater meaning that is the ritual of community cohesion, keeping the ethnic group’s cultural identity. A wedding ceremony takes place in accordance with certain traditions and customs, such as bride and groom welcoming, ancestor worshiping, groom receiving; asking for a bride welcoming, etc. In the celebration to ask for the bride, the heads of the groom’s family will play music or sing to ask for the bride, and the bride’s family also plays music or sings in response. The instrumental music in Nùng weddings is mainly performed by men. Musical instruments may include the nhị (two-string fiddle), wind instruments, and cymbals.

Lapar performing arts, as an ancient folklore genre of people’s creation, has a rich history. Lapar songs are performed by famous artists during holidays, public festivities, and wedding parties as well as in a bride’s house in the evening during ‘Girls’ Evening’, ‘Girls’ Party’, and ‘Lapar Night’. Girls and boys perform Lapar songs composed of four-lined ghazals in two groups. Through Lapar songs, girls and boys express their love for each other, make decisions, and take oaths. They sing their heart’s grief with a certain melody but without any music. If both the girl and the boy who are singing Lapar fall in love with each other, they present gifts to one another. If the boys present flowers to girls, the girls present a kerchief, belt-kerchief, handkerchief, perfume, or some other gift.\n\nLapar songs are mainly composed of four-lined verses and are performed in the form of a dialogue between two parties. If they resemble o'lan songs from these features, they are distinguished by the ideas, literary references, descriptive objects, and the lifestyle that are sung in the lyrics- the level of thought is more highly developed by images. \n\nLapar songs were performed and became increasingly better known through the work of famous Lapar singers, such as Lutfikhonim Sarimsoqova, Tamarakhonim, Lizakhonim Petrosova, Gavkhar Rakhimova, Oykhon Yoqubova, Guishan Otaboyeva, To'khtakhon Nazarova, Qunduzkhon Egamberdiyeva, and others. To pay more attention to Lapar and o'lan songs, to collect them, to support the performers, and to publicise their creative work to the broader community, the Traditional Republican Festival of Lapar and O'lan performers is regularly conducted by the Republican Scientific and Methodological Center of Folk Art under the Ministry of Culture and Sports of the Republic of Uzbekistan.\n\n\n\n

Katta Ashula (a song performed with a plate) is specific to the Ferghana Valley of Uzbekistan. Usually, it is performed a cappella by two to five singers of the same vocal range who use a plate or tray to project their voices in different ways. In most cases, Katta Ashula is performed by singers with a high-pitched, wide-ranging voice, and these are some of the distinguishing features of the complex performance style. Katta Ashula developed from basic traditional events in history, from labour songs, and from different styles of ghazal verses. Usually, Katta Ashula is performed in big gatherings, festivities, and party celebrations.\n\nKatta Ashula songs were performed professionally and further developed by famous Khofizes such as Erkaqori Karimov, Turdiali Ergashev, Matbuva Sattorov, Jo'rakhon Sultonov, Mamurjon Uzoqov, Boltaboy Rajabov, Orif Alimakhsumov, Fattohkhon Mamadaliev, Jo' rakhon Yusupov, and Khamroqulqory To'raqulov. Today, Katta Ashula is masterfully performed by experienced singers with the highest skill, such as Khalima Nosirova, Munojot Yo'lchieva, Ismoil and Isroil Vakhobovs, and Mahmud Tojiboev.

O`lan is a genre of people's oral creation. Mainly, it is performed by women with or without doira accompaniment. At Uzbek parties and celebrations, the O`lan is sung by a girls' team on one side and a boys' team on the other side, or it is sung by two people who take opposing sides so they can perform as though they are having a dialogue.\n\nYor-yor is a folk song performed at a wedding celebration when the bride is seen off. In ancient times, it was widespread among Uzbek, Tajik, Uygur, and Turkmen people. Yor-yor consists of two or four lines; at the end or in the middle of each line are the words 'yor-yor, aylanaman' (my beloved one, I am enchanted). Usually, yor-yor is accompanied by doira music performed by women. The high effect of yor-yor is that it simultaneously harmonises sadness with a merry melody, tone, and the mood of holiday joys. In yor-yor songs, the bride's features, wishes, cherished dreams, and congratulations to her are praised. \n\nThe Republican Scientific and Methodological Center of Folk Art under the Ministry of Culture and Sports of the Republic of Uzbekistan, in cooperation with the National Commission of the Republic of Uzbekistan for UNESCO, organised an expedition to Ferghana Valley to research and classify intangible cultural heritage samples as well as to inventory and define the bearers of this heritage. The expedition team recorded samples of O'lan songs from ICH bearers and transmitters of intangible cultural heritage, including Xayrullo Mirzayev, Hanifa Mirzayeva, Inoyat Rafiqova, Makhbuba Yo'ldosheva, Baxtiyor Turg'unov, Zebikhon Abdunazarova, Ko'paysin Oqboyeva, and Qo'zikhon Siddiqova.

Alla (lullaby) is an oral form of ICH sung by one person, usually a mother who is putting her baby to sleep. Alla is important in raising a child. That alla is a unique part of Turkic culture has been stated in many sources. Alla is highly emotive in that it allows a child to perceive not only motherly affection but also her spiritual sufferings. \n\nAlla creators and performers are mothers. The content and melody of all songs are derived from the spiritual state of a mother. The Spirit of the period is reflected in the song. Today, mothers perform all, enriching the songs with new content by signing and praising love for life, a happy life, and a bright future. The Republican Scientific and Methodological Center of Folk Art under the Ministry of Culture and Sports of the Republic of Uzbekistan, in cooperation with the National Commission of the Republic of Uzbekistan for UNESCO, organized an expedition to Ferghana Valley to research and classify intangible cultural heritage samples as well as to inventory and define the bearers of this heritage. The expedition team recorded samples of alla songs. Through these recordings, listeners can feel a high sense of motherly love as well as the utterance of a suffering human spirit. \n\nAlla\nI say alla my dear baby, \nListen to it. alla. \nListening to my sweet alla, \nEnjoy rest, alla. \nListen to my sweet alla, \nGo to sleep, alla, \nMay your future be prosperous. \nMy little soul, alla-yo.

Audio and Video Materials Collected from the Onsite Survey in the Ferghana Valley_2012 Uzbekistan-ICHCAP Joint Cooperation Project of Producing Digital Contents on ICH\n\nThe glorious intangible cultural heritage (ICH) of Ferghana Valley encompassing the state of Ferghana, Andijion, and Namangan in Uzbekistan includes oral traditional, performing arts, traditional rites and festive events, and traditional crafts. However, this heritage is largely unknown to the public in the nation and abroad, and it is fading out even more rapidly due to the young generation’s lack of interest.\n\nSince 2011, the four Central Asian countries, including Uzbekistan, have been implementing a three-year project, Facilitating ICH Inventory-Making by Using Online Tools for ICH Safeguarding in the Central Asian Region as a Central Asia–ICHCAP cooperative project. In the framework of the project, the countries have collected ICH information and tried to build an online system for managing the collected information.\n\nIn Uzbekistan, the Republican Scientific and Methodological Centre of Folk Art, under the Ministry of Culture and Sports of the Republic of Uzbekistan, in collaboration with the National Commission of the Republic of Uzbekistan for UNESCO, implemented the three-year project. They collected information on ICH elements in the Ferghana Valley (Andijan, Namangan, and Ferghana regions), Zarafshan Oasis and Southern Uzbekistan (Jizzakh, Samarkand, Kashkadarya, and Surkhandarya regions), and the Republic of Karakalpakstan (Navoi, Bukhara, and Khoresm regions) through onsite surveys from 2012 to 2014.\n\nIn 2012 when the first onsite survey was concluded, Uzbekistan and ICHCAP selected representative materials among collected videos, audios, and photos on ICH elements and ICH bearers, and compiled the materials as a ten-CD/DVD collection. Also, booklets in English, Uzbek, and Korean were made to spread related information to a wider audience.\n\nFerghana Valley is also home to Tajikistan, Uighers, and Turkistan. In the other words, different traditions co-exist in the same place. ‘Katta Ashula’, which integrates arts, songs, music, and epics, is one Uzbek cultural heritage representing the identities of the diverse people live in the valley\n\nThe collection could preserve the disappeared and disconnected ICH and encourage increased mutual understanding and communication by spreading the information widely from the experts to the people.

ICH Courier is the quarterly magazine on ICH in the Asia-Pacific region issued by ICHCAP since 2009. Every issue has its own theme under the title of the Windows to ICH, and the theme of the Vol 2 is 'ICH AND LABOR'.

ICH Courier is the quarterly magazine on ICH in the Asia-Pacific region issued by ICHCAP since 2009. Every issue has its own theme under the title of the Windows to ICH, and the theme of the Vol 6 is 'ICH AND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS'.

ICH Courier is the quarterly magazine on ICH in the Asia-Pacific region issued by ICHCAP since 2009. Every issue has its own theme under the title of the Windows to ICH, and the theme of the Vol 8 is 'ICH AND TRADITIONAL KNOWLEDGE AS AN OCCUPATIONAL LIVING.'

ICH Courier is the quarterly magazine on ICH in the Asia-Pacific region issued by ICHCAP since 2009. Every issue has its own theme under the title of the Windows to ICH, and the theme of the Vol 28 is 'ICH and Sacred Cultural Spaces.'