In several rural communities of Timor-Leste, Tuku-Osan—meaning “iron striking” or traditional blacksmithing—remains a respected livelihood and cultural craft. Practitioners, often known as tukun-besi (blacksmiths), transform scrap metal into ritual accessories and functional tools using simple, locally made equipment: a small furnace, a bellows typically fashioned from bamboo or wood, hammers, anvils, and chisels.\n\nThis blacksmithing tradition is not just about utility but also ceremony. Items created include decorative arm rings (li’uli’u), ritual knives, and symbolic metal accessories worn during important events like weddings, funerals, and traditional dances. These artifacts often serve as markers of identity, social status, or ancestral ties.\n\nApprenticeship usually begins at home, with young boys observing and gradually assisting their fathers or uncles in forging metal. Mastery takes years and involves not only technical skill but knowledge of the symbolic meanings tied to each object. For instance, some blades or tools are believed to possess protective properties or spiritual significance, especially when used during sacred rituals or by lia-nain (custom custodians).\n\nThe process itself requires intense physical labor and patience. The blacksmith begins by heating pieces of iron until they are malleable, then striking them repeatedly on an anvil to shape them. The rhythmic clanging of hammer against metal is accompanied by puffs of smoke from the wood-fired furnace—an image that recalls generations of artisans practicing the same technique.\n\nWhile modern materials and factory tools have reduced the demand for handmade ironwork, many rural communities continue to commission traditional blacksmiths for ceremonial needs. These craftspeople are regarded as keepers of ancestral knowledge, and their work is vital to ensuring that elements of Timorese identity endure in tangible form.

At the age of 72, Sarsenbai Kotyrashev, a retired blacksmith from the village of Ulytau in Kazakhstan, set out on a remarkable solo journey — walking over 8,000 kilometers across all 17 regions of the country. With a handmade cart and the flag of Kazakhstan waving behind him, Sarsenbai’s mission was not only personal but deeply patriotic. His goal was to promote Ulytau, the historical and spiritual heart of Kazakhstan, and revive cultural traditions such as the Kokmaysa festival and the ancient koumiss ritual Kymyzmuryndyk.\n\nAlong the way, he shared stories of Ulytau’s rich heritage, sacred sites, and the legacy of Kazakh craftsmanship, working in collaboration with UNESCO to document intangible cultural heritage. Despite his age, Sarsenbai averaged 40 kilometers a day, enduring harsh weather, rough terrain, and physical challenges—all while being supported by a small team of medics monitoring him remotely.\n\nHis journey captivated the nation and turned him into a cultural icon. But Sarsenbai didn’t stop there. In 2023, at 73, he announced an even more ambitious dream: to walk around the world. Starting from Atyrau, Kazakhstan, his planned route spans Europe, the United States, China, and back to Central Asia. Through every step, he continues to raise awareness of Kazakh culture, identity, and resilience, proving that it’s never too late to follow your dreams — and inspire a nation in the process.

The traditional Tajikistani string instrument rubob and the flute mehtar are handmade. Rubob produces easy-listening sound, so it’s good for listeners to hum along with the melody it plays. On the other hand, mehtar, famous for its loud sounds, is popular for merry events like wedding ceremonies. This video shows how to play and make both instruments.

In a small lakeside village in central Kazakhstan, a former history teacher and journalist, Togaybay Nurmuratuly, has dedicated his life to reviving the lost traditions of Kazakh craftsmanship. Disturbed by the decline of authentic handmade wooden goods and the disappearance of ancestral knowledge, he left a successful career in the capital to found a free school of traditional crafts in the village of Ozernoye.\n\nWorking primarily with birch, Togaybay carves dishes, trays, and cultural items adorned with ancient Kazakh ornaments like qoshqar muyuz (ram’s horns), a symbol of vitality and prosperity. Despite having no formal training, he taught himself the techniques of woodworking and has since passed on his knowledge to over a hundred students across Kazakhstan.\n\nAlongside him, his wife Gulbarshyn Zaitzhankyzy—an ethno-designer and expert in felting—teaches women to sew traditional Kazakh clothing and accessories using ancient materials and motifs. Together, they have created a community that reconnects Kazakhs to their cultural roots while helping learners build sustainable livelihoods.\n\nTheir school offers not only craft training but also guidance on entrepreneurship, production, and promotion—helping modern artisans blend tradition with technology. With ambitions to expand into blacksmithing, build an ethnographic village, and establish a Kazakh national brand of handmade products, the couple’s vision is reshaping cultural preservation in Kazakhstan.\n\nThis is more than a story about wood and wool—it's about identity, resilience, and the belief that tradition, when nurtured with passion, can forge a future as strong as its past.

Baor-making is a unique skill of the Maranao people. With its embossed handmade and intricate designs – particularly called okir – this skill has claimed a recognition abroad. nOkir is folk motifs found in various artworks and objects, they are usually inspired from detailed and different curves and no machines involved.\nBaor is a maranao translation of baul or the trunk.\nAside from the famous Darangen, a singing-like epic storytelling originally from the Maranao people as well, which belong to the top three of United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) inscribed intangible cultural heritage of the Philippines, baor-making skill is listed as an element among the other 366 under the inventory of Philippine Inventory of Intangible Cultural Heritage.\nHowever, since the 2016 Martial Law declaration in Mindanao stricter regulations are implemented on trees-cutting that are main ingredient to produce baor. Tree like the Philippine National Tree Narra.\nThe absence of professional teaching also creates significant hole for the identity of Maranao younger generations. As of the moment, the only way to transmit the skill is learning the techniques by observing elders while at home.\nThese reasons lead to saddening thought that the Tugaya’s one of a kind skill is slowly dying because youth have now better, numerous options to survive the living over the dynamic society.\nAlthough baor-making is traditionally originated in Tugaya, a small municipality in Lanao del Sur, there is a man who has been living so far from the root of baor-making: Abdulsamad Usman, 58, has been dwelling his fate on making and selling baor amidst the Taguig city’s uncertainties.\nnTaguig is one of the urban cities in Metro Manila, National Capital Region. The gap between Tugaya and Taguig is at least one-thousand kilometers.\nAccording to Usman, more or less a month period before finishing a medium-sized baor. He can carve designs and paint them. He, with his team, is the only considered baor maker who practice the skill in Metro Manila.\nUsman strongly believes that baor-making will not vanish from the present and history because the skill has been playing a huge part for the Maranaos’ culture and identity.\nn기타설명nBaor-making is a unique skill of Maranao people from Tugaya, Lanao del Sur. Baor is a maranao translation of baul or the trunk. The designs embossed in it are called okir --- detailed and different curves. They are handmade and no machines involved. Tugaya is a small community in Lanao del Sur, a province in Mindanao.\nThe skill is considered as an intangible cultural heritage (ICH) among the other 366 listed under the inventory of Philippine Inventory of Intangible Cultural Heritage.