▶ Play Video 7. The T’boli A People Who Live with Art\nThis episode was first aired on Filipino television on September 19, 1996. This episode has been modified from its original format.\n\nThe T’boli (Tagabili, Tiboli), together with the B’laan to the east and Teduray to the north, are in a single language group distinct from the remaining language groups of Mindanao. The T’boli traditionally live in scattered ettlements in the highlands of southwestern Mindanao, in the province of South Cotabato. The cultural communities surround the complex of highland lakes—Lake Sebu, Lake Selutan, and Lake Lahit. Settlements are composed of family clusters of fifteen or more households. Clusters are at elevations averaging 3,000 feet above sea level. Recently, these settlements have grown to comprise thirty or more households. Each settlement has a ceremonial house called a gono bong (big house). Members of such communities are usually related by kinship.\n\nThe T’boli practice swidden farming, cultivating highland rice (teneba), the staple food, potato, sugar cane, taro, and sweet potato. Corn and coffee are considered cash crops. Owning a horse is an indicator of economic status. Forests function as the main source of food, and the main source of protein is lake fish.\n\nThe T’boli are noted for their backstrap loom textile, t’nalak, which is woven from tie-dyed abaca fiber. Personal ornaments made of multicolored beads and embroidered blouses and hats are other notable features of the T’boli. Small household metal industries use the lost-wax process to manufacture cast brass bolo handles, figurines and betel-nut containers, and other ornaments.\n\nWhile the kinship system is bilateral, there is a strong male dominance. The father leads the household, and the oldest male leads joint and extended families. The oldest male child takes over this dominance upon the death of the father. If there is no son, lomolo is practiced, whereby the father’s eldest brother assumes the wealth of the deceased and claims the latter’s wife as his own.\n\nThe communities are also linked through a recognized leader, the datu, who does not officially command but whose word is respected because of his status, economic means, reputed courage, skill in settling disputes, and wisdom in the interpretation of custom laws. The position is achieved through community validation. He traditionally acquires rights over a person for whom he has paid an unsettled debt.\n\nA major social ritual of the T’boli is the mo-ninum, which is usually celebrated for a marriage and includes a multilateral exchange of articles of wealth (kimu). After six ceremonial feasts, for which the families take turns being hosts (moken) and guests (mulu), the ceremony climaxes with the marriage itself. The whole cycle may take many years to complete and sometimes results in the construction of a gono mo-ninum, a huge house that can accommodate more than two hundred people.\n\nMaguindanaoMandayaKalingaSubanonTagalogManobo

In the rugged landscapes of Timor-Leste, where dry seasons can stretch long and food insecurity remains a reality for many, the people have long relied on their deep knowledge of wild, resilient crops. Among them is Koto-Tisi—a hard, dark wild bean that offers vital sustenance but must be carefully prepared to remove its natural toxins. What might appear at first glance to be just another seed is, in fact, a symbol of survival, ecological wisdom, and ancestral resilience.\n\nThe bean is typically found growing on hardy, thorny shrubs or climbing vines in semi-wild areas. It is gathered primarily by women, who know when the pods are ready to be picked and how to handle them safely. The challenge lies not in harvesting but in transforming Koto-Tisi into something edible—an intricate cooking process that has been passed down through generations.\n\nPreparation begins with repeated boiling and rinsing, sometimes up to five or six times. Each round helps to leach out the toxic compounds present in the bean. The water must be discarded each time, and the beans carefully watched to ensure that they soften without disintegrating. After boiling, the beans are often sun-dried and stored for later use, to be boiled again before eating or ground into a starchy paste.\n\nThe process is labor-intensive and demands both patience and precision. Elders in the community emphasize that the knowledge of how to process Koto-Tisi is not written in books—it lives in memory, movement, and the rhythms of daily life. To rush the process or ignore the sequence could lead to poisoning. For this reason, children are taught to observe closely, assisting their mothers or grandmothers and gradually learning the delicate balance between danger and nourishment.\n\nIn times of drought, scarcity, or natural disaster, Koto-Tisi becomes a lifeline. Its ability to grow in harsh conditions, with little water or care, makes it a dependable fallback when cultivated crops fail. But it is more than a survival food—it is also a testament to how culture and ecology intertwine. The knowledge required to use it safely reflects a deep respect for the land, a skillset honed through centuries of careful experimentation and oral transmission.\n\nToday, as dietary patterns change and imported food becomes more available, the practice of preparing Koto-Tisi is fading in some areas. But in others, it remains a respected tradition—especially among elders who see it not only as food but as a story, a ritual, and a reminder of community strength in the face of adversity.

In the communities of Viqueque, particularly among the Tetun-Terik-speaking people, fai-akar—the production of sago flour from the akar palm—is not merely a method of food preparation; it is a cultural ceremony that blends labor, rhythm, and collective identity. At the heart of this tradition is the Tali-Bole dance, a dynamic performance woven seamlessly into the act of pounding sago, transforming a daily task into a vibrant expression of heritage.\n\nThe process of making fai-akar begins with harvesting the inner pith of the akar palm tree, which is then ground and washed to extract starch. This labor-intensive task is done in groups, mostly by women, using long wooden pestles to pound the fiber in large mortars. But what sets this practice apart is the way pounding becomes performance: the coordinated movement of the pestles rises and falls to the beat of chanting and drumming, and the Tali-Bole dance emerges from the rhythm of the work itself.\n\nDancers move in synchrony with the pounding, often stepping in and out of the work line, twirling or waving cloth, and responding to sung verses. The term tali-bole can be interpreted in various ways—some connect it to the image of “binding cords,” others to the swinging motion of the pestles themselves—but in all meanings, it emphasizes connection, unity, and the shared pulse of community labor.\n\nSongs sung during the pounding and dancing are passed down orally and are rich in metaphor and memory. One of the most well-known verses, Lakaleok, is sung toward the end of the session, signaling closure and expressing gratitude. These lyrics often tell stories of ancestors, landscapes, and social values, ensuring that cultural knowledge is preserved even in the most practical of activities.\n\nTraditionally, fai-akar and Tali-Bole were performed during rites of passage, funerals, house inaugurations, and communal feasts. Participation was seen not only as a contribution of labor but as an affirmation of cultural belonging. The rhythmic beat of the pestles and the voices of the singers created a space where work, ritual, and performance blended into one.\n\nAlthough the practice remains alive in some villages, it faces growing challenges. The availability of processed food, the decline of communal labor traditions, and the migration of youth to urban areas have all contributed to its reduced presence. Yet, in places where it continues, fai-akar and Tali-Bole are embraced as sources of pride, often featured at cultural festivals and heritage events to showcase the strength and creativity of traditional life.\n\nTo witness Tali-Bole is to see cultural memory in motion—where hands work, feet dance, and voices carry the wisdom of generations. In every stomp and song, the community reaffirms its bond with the land, its past, and one another.

This is an original dance reconstructed based on traditional dances of Bali. To the Balinese, dance is a form of religious ritual performed according to the Balinese calendar. The traditional dances of Bali are inspired by nature and represent traditions, customs and religious value. The Balinese believe that the movements of traditional dances express the views of nature, while the mudra (hand movements) are related to their daily lives, laws, faith and customs. Traditional Balinese dances can be performed by both male and female dancers, who wear elaborate traditional costumes of bright colors, imprinted with flora and fauna patterns in gold foil, and decorated with accessories adorned by golden leaves and jewelry. The dance moves are very complex and precisely detailed. Dancers are required to possess not just skill, but also inner beauty (taksu), charisma, modesty and restraint, along with special spiritual power to bring the dances to life.\n\nDances performed in the many communities of Bali are typically transmitted through unofficial channels from elders to children in the traditional sekaa groups. The traditional dances of Bali are cultural heritage containing the customs and culture of the Balinese, and an important part of the identity of a community. The three genres of traditional Balinese dances were inscribed to the UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2015.\n\nCharacteristics:\n∙An original dance reconstructed from the three genres of traditional dance in Bali inscribed to the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2015.\n\nPerformed by Dance Company of Jakarta State University\nDirected by Ida Bagus Ketut Sudiasa

▶ Play Video 6. To Be Manobo\nThis episode was first aired on Filipino television on June 6, 1996. This episode has been modified from its original format.\nAnimals were offered in the context of the Manobo cultural ritual.\n\nThe Manobo frin the largest of the ethnic groups of the Philippines in terms of relationships and number of linguistic divergences. The microsystemic environmental niches result in a wide distribution of the group, covering core areas from Sarangani Island to the Mindanao mainland in the provinces of Agusan del Sur, Davao, Bukidnon, Cotabato, and South Cotabato. Some of the groups occupy such a wide area that localized groups have assumed distinctive characters and formed separate ethnic grouping, such as the Bagobo, the Higaonon, and the Atta.\n\nA tentative—but more specific—classification that needs attention divides the Manobo into major groups that are then divided into subgroups as follows: (1) Ata subgroup: Dugbatang, Talaingod, and Tagauanum; (2) Bagobo subgroup: Attaw (Jangan, Klata, Obo, Giangan, Guiangan), Eto (Ata), Kailawan (Kaylawan), Langilan, Manuvu/ Obo, Matigsalug (Matigsaug, Matig Salug), Tagaluro, and Tigdapaya; (3) Higaonon subgroup: Agusan, Lanao, and Misamis; (4) North Cotabato: Ilianen, Livunganen, Pulenyan; (5) South Cotabato: Cotabato (with subgroup Tasaday and Blit), Sarangani, Tagabawa; (6) Western Bukidnon: Kiriyeteka, Ilentungen, and Pulangiyen; (7) Agusan del Sur; (8) Banwaon; and (9) Bukidnon. The various subgroupings are not precisely defined as of yet, except among the members themselves.\n\nSettlements are generally kin-based nuclear groups located on the ridges near the swidden fields. The communities are widely dispersed and placed on high ridges above mountain drainage systems. In some areas, long houses accommodate several families, usually including extended family memebrs. Leadership is entrusted to a highly skilled and socially powerful individual who builds up his following through various modes of alliances, including marriage. In a grouping, which usually comprises a traditional kindred community, one datu is recognized as the head. Datus are further grouped under a more sovereign datu, up through a political pyramid with a sultan and a rajah muda holding sway in a larger territory. Although the kin relationship is bilateral, a bias favors males for decision-making and leadership while women hold subordinate positions in society.\n\nHowever, the structure of leadership is gradually changing, with an overlay of the contemporary civil structures applied from the governor of the province down to the level of the sitio councilman, positions often assumed by better educated, younger-generation members of the community. The groups are largely Christianized though some local belief systems also survive. The national education system has largely penetrated the more concentrated areas and minimally the more inaccessible rural areas. Distinctly characteristic ethnic dress has mostly given way to commercial clothing, with ethnic materials retreating to the antique trade.

▶ Play Video 2. Into the Heart of the Mandaya A Journey through the Wilds of Davao Oriental\nThis episode was first aired on Filipino television on November 16, 1995. This episode has been modified from its original format.\n\nAnimals were offered in the context of the Mandaya cultural ritual.\n\nThe Mandaya are a complex group that can be referred to by different terms: Mangwanga, Mangrangan, Mangosan, Magosan, Pagsupan, Divavaonon, Dibabaon, and Mansaka. Members reside in Davao Oriental. They are concentrated in the municipalities of Caraga, Manay, Cateel, Lupon, and Tarragona. The known subgroupings are: (1) Mansaka, (2) Pagsupan, (3) Mangwanga (Mangrangan, Compostela), (4) Managosan, (5) Divavaon (Dibabaon, mixed Manobo Mandaya), and (6) Karaga.\n\nThe Mandaya occupy upstream areas, practicing slash-and-burn cultivation in highly dispersed settlements. In addition to a wide range of cropping for domestic consumption, abaca is cultivated as a cash crop. Rice, various tubers, and bananas form the bulk of their diet. Communities are dispersed usually near swiddens. Two or three family units usually occupy houses, and these are usually within sight even if dispersed. Proximity of these houses constitutes a neighborhood, which is loosely organized into a larger discrete domain with all of the households related through various kin relationships. Families are either nuclear or polygynous.\n\nTraditionally, each domain has a headman, bagani, whose word is considered law and who wears distinctive red clothing. He is the recognized protector of the community. His rule is tempered by an advisory council, angtutukay, usually composed of community elders. With the disappearance of the bagani social structure at present, the civil structures of the barangay prevail. There still exists, however, a conflict between the established civil authority and the informal authorities.\n\nThe Mandaya/Mansaka women are famous for their distinctive dresses and ornaments. Their tie-dye weaving and embroidery are intertwined through a sophisticated symbolic art system that evolved design motifs that each have names. The binulanbulan motif, for instance, consists of nested circles representing the moon, and suksuk ng kasili represents fish scales. These motifs are embroidered on blouses against a contrasting red or black background. The beadwork and silver craft on body ornaments mark this group as one of the most noteworthy in terms of art. Unique among Filipino ethno-linguistic groups are the women’s large ornate silver breast ornaments (platina), their multiple fossil shell arm bracelets, and their embroidered blouses. The men wear a distinctive narrow hat constructed from the shaft of a palm frond.

Tara-Bandu is one of Timor-Leste’s most enduring systems of customary law—an ancestral method for maintaining harmony between humans, nature, and the spirit world. Practiced across many municipalities, this tradition involves the collective setting of social and environmental rules by the community, enforced not by police or government, but by deep-rooted respect for customary authority and ancestral belief.\n\nThe term “tara-bandu” itself means “to suspend” or “to declare a prohibition.” At its core, it is a communal agreement to protect certain aspects of life—be it sacred forests, clean water sources, agricultural land, or interpersonal relationships. Violating a tara-bandu is believed to bring not just social disapproval, but also spiritual misfortune, such as illness, crop failure, or even death.\n\nThe process of establishing a tara-bandu involves an elaborate ceremonial act led by lia-nain (customary custodians), elders, spiritual leaders, and village chiefs. At the heart of the ritual is the symbolic installation of the prohibition. This may take the form of hanging a tree branch, an animal skull, or even a bound bundle of leaves at the boundary of a protected area. These symbols serve as visible markers that the space or behavior they refer to is off-limits.\n\nEach tara-bandu is tailored to local needs. In some communities, it may prohibit cutting down trees from a specific forest. In others, it may regulate marriage customs, resolve conflicts, or prevent theft and violence. The process is highly participatory: villagers gather in large open-air meetings to discuss the rules, agree on penalties, and publicly reaffirm their commitment to uphold the communal values.\n\nThe ceremony itself often includes the sacrifice of an animal—commonly a pig, goat, or chicken—as an offering to the ancestral spirits. A traditional oath is spoken, and traditional liquor (tua sabu) is sometimes poured on the earth as a gesture of sealing the agreement. These rituals symbolize not only human consensus but a spiritual pact between the living and the unseen world.\n\nBeyond its legal implications, tara-bandu has an environmental and ethical function. It teaches respect for natural resources, encourages collective responsibility, and reinforces peaceful coexistence. It also represents an indigenous system of governance, reminding the Timorese people that long before modern institutions, their ancestors had mechanisms to resolve disputes and protect what mattered most.\n\nIn the years following independence, tara-bandu experienced a significant revival. Communities, NGOs, and government bodies alike have recognized its value—not as a relic of the past, but as a living, adaptable tool for building resilient societies. It is now being integrated into conservation projects, natural resource management plans, and even civic education programs in schools.\n\nStill, its continued vitality depends on intergenerational transmission. Elders must be supported in sharing their knowledge, and younger generations must be empowered to see the relevance of tara-bandu in today’s context. As both law and ritual, tara-bandu is a shining example of how intangible cultural heritage can guide communities in shaping a sustainable, respectful, and united future.

The people of Drangmaling-Nangar village in Tsamang Gewog, Mongar Dzongkhag in the eastern district gather every two years to perform Khar-phued. Literally, dairy product; milk, curd, cheese, butter, etc. were used as offerings. In other words, Kar means "wheat", Phued means "offering" - it is the offering of the first wheat harvest. \n\nKharphu is a Bon ritual festival used to pay homage to local deities and ensure the well-being of the community, its households, livestock and crops. Kharphu is celebrated from the 26th day of the fourth month to the 2nd day of the fifth month according to the Bhutanese calendar. \n\nThe village elders trace the origin of this ancient festival to the days of the creation of earth and sky (sachag namchag), as they do not know the exact century of origin or when it was held. The program and its components have been entirely preserved and passed down through oral tradition. This includes the ritual nightly exchange of songs that extends throughout the week. Apparently, this festival is in great danger of being lost in the modern cultural landscape.

The name Zhana Ngacham comes from the zhana (black hats) worn by the dancers and the use of the ngachung (small drum) during the Cham performance. It is another form of Zhana Cham (black hat dance). Usually, the dance is performed mainly by monks in dzongs (fortresses), monasteries and temples during Tshechu (annual mask dance festival) and also during Drubchen (large ritual ceremonies). However, sometimes the dancers are replaced by lay people if there are no monastic facilities in the community. The dance falls under the category of Tsun cham (monastic mask dance performances). \n\nThe dancers wear a long brocade robe called phoegho with long and wide sleeve ends, a dorji gong (a crossed vajra collar) over the shoulder, and two phoe-cho or phoe-tog, a horn-like tool attached to either side of the hips that helps the robe turn smoothly and elegantly as the dancers twirl. The distinctive feature of the Black Hat dance is the black, spherical hat with decorations in the shape of a human skull and peacock quill, and Thro-pang, an angry face wrapped around the front of the abdomen. \n\nZhana Ngacham is usually performed by 21 dancers under the direction of Cham-pon (dance leader) and Cham-jug (deputy leader). In the seventeenth century, Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal (1594-1651) is revered for giving more importance to the performance of such dances and including them in the curricula of the central monastery under the title Gar-thig-yang-sum (mask dances, proportions mandala drawing and ritual intonation) to establish them in the field of cultural heritage in Bhutan.

Along the coastal regions of Timor-Leste, especially in areas where seawater meets fertile land, communities have preserved a unique tradition known as Tein-Masin—the age-old practice of salt making. More than just a method for producing seasoning, this practice reflects generations of local knowledge, environmental adaptation, and cultural ritual.\n\nThe process begins with the careful selection of salty earth, which is usually dug from the beach or coastal swamps. This salt-rich soil is placed into large woven baskets or wooden containers and then carefully filtered using fresh water collected from nearby springs. The resulting brine is collected in clay pots or metal vessels and then boiled over a wood fire for hours—sometimes days—until only fine salt crystals remain.\n\nSalt production is typically carried out by women and elders who have mastered the delicate timing and techniques required for successful extraction. Every step—from gathering the earth to managing the fire’s intensity—demands attention, patience, and experience. It is common to see family members working together, with children helping to fetch water or gather firewood, making it both a household activity and a community effort.\n\nBefore the salt-making begins, it is customary to conduct a ritual led by a lia-nain (traditional spiritual leader) or elder. An animal, often a chicken, is sacrificed and its blood is offered to local spirits as a request for protection and success. This ritual underscores the belief that nature’s resources must be treated with respect, and that balance between human needs and the environment must be maintained.\n\nSalt produced through Tein-Masin is more than a culinary product—it is a symbol of cultural resilience and a vital part of local economies. It is exchanged in traditional markets, used in rituals, and stored as a valuable household good. In times of hardship or isolation, it has even served as a form of currency.\n\nToday, while industrial salt is widely available, many communities still choose to practice Tein-Masin, valuing not only the quality of the hand-made salt but also the cultural meaning embedded in its production. Yet, challenges remain: the practice is labor-intensive and yields are modest, and younger generations are increasingly drawn away by urban migration and modern lifestyles.\n\nPreserving Tein-Masin means more than protecting a traditional technique—it means safeguarding a way of life shaped by harmony with nature, intergenerational collaboration, and deep spiritual connection to the land and sea.

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.

The Buklog is a thanksgiving ritual practiced by the Subanen people in Southern Philippines, and is one of the most spectacular and elaborate rituals in the nation.\n\nThis video follows the Buklog Thindeg, which is performed together by several communities in the Zamboanga Peninsula. Participants hold sacred an elevated wooden structure called the Buklog, from which the ritual derives its name, while dancing and singing to please the spirits. The Buklog is a powerful ritual to unite the Subanen community, but it faces an uncertain future due to urbanization and modernization.