Kin Pang Then is a traditional ritual of the Tai ethnic group in the northwest region of Vietnam to welcome and thank the deity known as Then. In the ritual, Then comes down to grant blessings on villagers and heal those whose souls are sick. The beneficiaries of the ritual are obliged to participate in the next Kin Pang Then ritual. The whole process of greeting and sending off the deity is intended to bring harmony and unity to all community members who participate in and enjoy the ritual. \nThis video shows the spiritual life of the Tai people and a master performing the ritual to bring good luck and wellbeing to the local people.

Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, 2016 Navruz is celebrated in Iranian cultures such as Tajikistan. As it is a happy festive day to welcome the spring after the long winter, the children enjoy various games. This video shows the children at play. Girls wear traditional Tajik costumes, and boys wear formal clothes while playing games like pebꠓble tossing and catching, kite flying, stick tossing, skipping rope, hacky sack, arm wrestling, swinging, breaking eggs. They also sing, allowing viewers to also feel cheerfulness of a festive day and become quite comfortable.\nLabchang, a musical instrument known from ancient times, received its name because it is placed between the lips and is played by a finger. Some old people in a few areas of Tajikistan continue to play labchang, so the art of playing has almost disappeared. The young generation generally doesn’t even now about the instrument. This film is dedicated to the methods of play on various types of labchangs in different parts of Tajikistan.\nVarious dance forms are performed in relation to nature throughout Tajikistan. The dances are varied, mainly having an imitating character. Performed by folk artists, the dances are transferred from generation to generation. Some of the rare dances are gone with their performers. The Pamiri people perform a rare mourning dance that is currently performed only in Bartang Valley and is on the verge of disappearances. Other dance forms are being revived day by day.

Chundu Soelchod is a native offering practiced by people of Haa and Paro. During the Soelkha, dances and Zhey are performed by the people of Yangthang Gewog with unique dress, lyric and steps. The male artists are locally called pazerpa or pazaap.\n\nIn the 8th century, Guru Rinpoche visited Bhutan thrice from Tibet and subdued the local deities and transformed them as protecting deity of dharma in every region. Chundue soelkha is mainly celebrated for thanking Ap Chundu (local deity of Haa) for helping people of Haa during the battle time. It was originated during the time of when Zhandrung Ngawang Namgyel had conflict with Tsang Desi of Tibet. During that time group of Tibetan (Boe ma) reached at Haa, Gyensa. It was said that during night, those Boe ma (Tibetan) who reached Gyensa had seen fire and noises in Jangkhakha (Ap Chundu ground). Due to the light and reflection from Jangkhakha those Tibetan couldn’t attract the enemies instead they fell down in the river below Gyensa. That group of Tibetan was defected and the battle was won by the Haaps. Therefore people of Haa started with Ap Chundu soelchod to remember and thank Ap Chundu for his superstitious power and supporting them to win the battle.\n\nPeople also say as Ap Chudu’s birthday. It is celebrated toward the end of the year that is ninth month of the Bhutanese’s calendar. Regarded as manifestation of the warmth Chagna Dorji, Ap Chundu is not just localized to Haa district but he is and important deity of the country itself.\n\nIn Bon-nag tradition (animal sacrifice is required to appease the deities. People use to sacrifice the yak during the festival until 2013. They did because they were feared so much that Ap Chundu will punish them with diseases and natural calamities if they missed it. How ever since killing is sinful act in Buddhism in the year 2013, Haaps local guardian deity has been appeased by scarifying a yak after consulting with the dzongkhag and gewog staff, and the family who carried out the tradition for years, the authorities decided to seek Ap Chundu’s permission to stop killing yaks to appease him. So they rolled the dice and according to the astrologer, got his affirmation.

The Tai communities live in Son La, Lai Chau, Yen Bai and Dien Bien provinces in the Northwest of Viet Nam. Kin Pang Then is one of Then's important rituals of the Tai people. This is the occasion where the Then master and his followers perform a thanksgiving ritual for the Then god. The ritual includes songs and music that symbolically express the journey of the Then Master to travel to the other world to look for the lost souls of the disciples/clients and to call the souls coming back to their bodies. The film is about the destined ritual Master and his ritual performance with Xoe dance for healing, good luck and well being for the local people. The film demonstrates the spiritual life and religious Then practice of the Tai in Northwestern religion in Viet Nam.

The ‘Ngajat Lesung’ is one of the famous dances in Sarawak. This is an Iban traditional dance and is believed to have been performed by warriors on their return from battles. \nThis dance is now performed to celebrate the most important harvest festival called ‘Gawai’, to welcome important guests to the longhouses.\n\nThis is also available at https://youtu.be/dH8-GBj4ehw

The Kaiui—also known as fui or be’u in different regions—is a traditional bamboo flute of Timor-Leste, cherished for its gentle, evocative sound that once echoed across rice fields, hilltops, and quiet village evenings. Long associated with solitude, emotional expression, and storytelling, the Kaiui is more than just a musical instrument—it is a vessel of memory and connection.\n\nTraditionally crafted from au-fafulu, a specific type of bamboo, the Kaiui features seven tone holes and is often about the length of a forearm. A key part of its design is the use of a corn cob or similar material to block part of the internal chamber, modifying the flow of air and shaping the distinctive tone. The player blows across the top opening while controlling the pitch with their fingers, producing melodies that are haunting, meditative, and subtly expressive.\n\nFor generations, the Kaiui was used by boys tending livestock in the fields, especially in the early mornings or during midday rest. It was played to pass the time, soothe animals, or simply to ease loneliness. Others used it to express feelings of longing—especially in matters of love, separation, or remembrance. In many communities, the flute is considered a deeply personal instrument, capable of giving voice to emotions that are otherwise difficult to speak.\n\nThe art of playing Kaiui is learned informally, typically by observing and mimicking older siblings, parents, or elders. There is no standard notation; the music lives through imitation, memory, and improvisation. Songs vary from region to region and even from player to player, with some tunes tied to seasonal rhythms or traditional events like sau-batar (harvest ceremonies) or rites of passage.\n\nThe Kaiui also plays a role in certain rituals and ceremonies, where its sound is believed to create a space of calm, welcome ancestral spirits, or accompany reflective moments. Its simple construction and natural materials reflect a worldview grounded in harmony with the environment—a flute made entirely from what the land provides, played under the open sky.\n\nToday, however, the practice of making and playing the Kaiui is increasingly rare. As younger generations turn to electronic music and imported instruments, the quiet music of the bamboo flute is fading from everyday life. In some communities, it survives primarily as a cultural demonstration during festivals or heritage programs.\n\nEfforts to preserve the Kaiui are now underway through workshops, school projects, and intergenerational exchanges. In these spaces, the flute is not only played but celebrated—as a living symbol of Timor-Leste’s musical heritage and a gentle reminder of how sound, memory, and identity are woven together in the simplest of forms.

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.

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.

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.

Folk Dances of Nepal_Deuda Naach\n\nPerformer: Unknown \nDate of Recording: 1995 \nCaste: Damai \nCollector: Dan Bahadur Nepali\n\nNepalese communities express their emotions through the rhythms of various folk dances. Folk dances, in fact, are an inseparable part of rural life. On the other hand, the religious influence can easily be observed in the songs and dances, which are often performed to please deities responsible for the well-being of humans and cattle, favorable climate, and good harvest. As the country has widely differing topographical features, so does it have vast variances in cultural aspects. Folk songs and dances depend on cultures, cas-tes, seasons, and geographical features. For example, a sherpa living in the Himalayan region sings and dances differently from a Tharu living in the Terai region. Similarly, songs and dances performed in the spring season express joyous emotions, whereas those performed in the winter season express sadness. This collection includes the most famous folk dances of the different indigenous communities of Nepal dwelling in various environments. These dances are a part of their daily life.\n\nThis folk dance was performed by artists from the Kalikot district in the mid-western region of Nepal. The deuda dance is usually performed in a group of either a single gender or both. This dance is performed on special occasions, such as rice transplanting, rice harvesting, at festivals, wedding ceremonies, and many others. The leader of this dance starts songs and the others repeat and dance in a circle.

“The Swan Rings: A Story of Eternal Love” is a captivating journey into Mongolia’s rich oral heritage, retelling the 500-year-old love story of Donoi the Rich and Tsagaankhuvi—a tale passed down through generations and revived today through storytelling, singing, and sand art.\n\nSet in the breathtaking landscapes of present-day Aldarkhaan soum in Zavkhan province, this story of devotion and harmony pays tribute to two legendary figures who helped sustain their community through horse herding and deep compassion. Honored and remembered as Ongods—ancestral spirits—Donoi and Tsagaankhuvi's story is a cherished legacy that continues to inspire.\n\nThis video reintroduces Mongolia’s storytelling traditions, blending folktale narration with epic singing and visual storytelling through sand drawing. At its heart are three handcrafted portraits depicting the main characters in their original attire, and a symbolic pair of silver swan rings—representing eternal love and unity.\n\nTo bring this tale to life, the creators conducted extensive research—consulting Ongods, visiting sacred sites, and collaborating with master storytellers such as N. Lantuu, B. Bayarmagnai, and G. Buuveibaatar. The team also drew inspiration from the natural beauty of Ganga Lake’s swan gatherings and the horse festivals of Agtana Khureet.\n\nNarrated by Merited Artist S. Otgon and sung by tradition bearer S. Dansran, this multimedia work features sand art by B. Sodnomdarjaa, original music by B. Erdenebat, and performances by S. Dansran and E. Enkhjin. The project was conceptualized by Agula Ulaach, revised by Agaruu UdGun, technically edited by B. Bilguun, and beautifully translated by B. Mandakhnar.\n\n“The Swan Rings” is the first in a trilogy exploring the theme “How Swans Became the Symbol of Love,” an artistic tribute to Mongolia’s timeless traditions of storytelling, love, and the spirit of community.

The team of students and young dombra artists from various musical colleges and art communities took part in the festive events for the first National Dombra Day celebration in Almaty. The performance was leaded by the famous artists and musicians.\nFirst celebration of the National Dombra Day had been widely spread in the country. A lot of individual artists and dombra professional and folk orchestra conducted the concert performance at Arbat avenue, popular public place in Almaty.\nThe Dombra is a musical two-stringed instrument, which occupies a special place in Kazakhs’ hearts. The National Dombyra Day has been included in the list of national holidays since 2018 by the decree of the President of Kazakhstan. This was done in in order to further consolidate society around the idea of preserving and reviving national culture and identity. The holiday is celebrated annually on the first Sunday of July.\nKazakhstan’s First President Nursultan Nazarbayev established National Dombra Day on June 12th, 2018. It immediately became a favorite holiday for people and was widely celebrated nationwide with music competitions and festivals.\nDombra belongs to the main symbols of the Kazakh musical heritage and culture. This tool invariably unites people of different professions, religions and nationalities in Kazakhstan. You can meet dombra today in almost every home.\nNone of events in the life of the people could happen without this national musical instrument. Respect for dombra is passed down from generation to generation. So it was in the days of nomads and remains to this day. Interest in dombra, as well as its popularity, is not fading away. Today, an increasing number of young people masterfully own this instrument.