The film is dedicated to the Kyrgyz folk instrument komuz. An expert on making and playing komuz shares an komuz origin story. The film shows the interconnectedness between the models and melodies of komuz. Outstanding komuz makers and players as well as komuz beginners present some classical komuz melodies in the film.

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.

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.

Sape is a traditional instrument of the Kenyah people in Sarawak, Malaysia. It is a boat-shaped instrument made of special wood and traditionally consists of 2 to 4 strings. Traditionally, sape performance was considered more than just a performance as part of a ritual, and only men were allowed to play. However, in modern times, women can also play Sape, and the number of strings has increased to six, allowing various modern music performances.

The dombra, a two-stringed plucked instrument, has played an integral part of Kazakh culture since ancient times. By performing kuy (a short solo composition) on the dombra, the nomad expressed his feelings. The only harmonic material for dombra that fully meets the traditions and rules is the tree. The tradition of hollowing out the instrument from a single piece of wood relates to mythological ideas about the sacredness and inviolability of the tree. The entire process of manufacturing dombra in ancient times took four years, and each instrument was custom made based on the player’s physique, voice, repertoire, gender, and was endowed with a special spiritual content.

The sape is a traditional instrument of the Kenyah people in Sarawak, Malaysia. This boat-shaped instrument is made of the special wood adau and typically has two to four strings. \nSape music carries greater significance than simple per\u0002formance—it has long been used to calm people and treat illnesses. Previously, women were not allowed to play the sape, but it gradually became acceptable for them to per\u0002form. As the materials and playing techniques have changed over time as well, more people are now able to enjoy sape performances. The sape has helped to keep the tradition and beliefs of Malaysia alive through to the modern era.

The film is dedicated to the Kyrgyz folk instrument komuz. An expert on making and playing komuz shares an komuz origin story. The film shows the interconnectedness between the models and melodies of komuz. Outstanding komuz makers and players as well as komuz beginners present some classical komuz melodies in the film. \nThis film is dedicated to kalpak—a traditional male felt hat. Knowledgeable people (a teacher, a journalist, an activist, and craftswomen) talk about the social functions and spiritual meanings behind kalpak. The film shows traditional and modern methods of making kalpak.

The ICH festivals in the Kyrgyz Republic are a great way to safeguard the cultural heritage. Kyrgyzstan has a rich ICH and embraces all ICH domains including the oral traditions andexpressions, performing arts, social practices, rituals and festive event, knowledge and practices concerning nature and the universe, and traditional craftsmanship. Festivals feature various ICH domains such as arts and crafts, cuisine, folklore, felt, hunting with birds, horse games, etc. For instance, the festivals Kyrgyz Shyrdagy and the Oimo International Festival are held with the aim of safeguarding and popularizing traditional knowledge and skills of handicrafts, for safeguarding and promoting traditional games, various birds of prey festivals are held, such as Salbuurun and Kok Boru. Moreover, festivals are dedicated to safeguarding oral traditions, such as Aitysh, the art of improvisation as well as many other festivals reflecting traditional cuisine, folklore, etc.

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.

Simple in design but rich in cultural significance, the Lakadou is a traditional musical instrument made entirely from bamboo, found in various rural communities of Timor-Leste. Often carved from a single stalk, it stands as a testament to the ingenuity of ancestral craftsmanship—an instrument that produces sound not with strings or metal, but with tensioned strips of its own body.\n\nThe process of making a Lakadou begins with selecting the right kind of bamboo—neither too young nor too old—so that it is flexible yet strong. Using only a knife or a small carving tool, the outer layer of the bamboo is partially sliced into thin, horizontal strips along the stalk, which remain attached at both ends. These strips act as the instrument’s “strings.” Small wooden pegs or bridges are then inserted beneath them to lift the strips slightly, allowing them to vibrate when plucked.\n\nWhen played, the Lakadou emits a warm, buzzing resonance that can be heard clearly in quiet, open-air settings. The tones are soft yet sharp, melodic yet earthy—reflecting both the material and the environment from which it is made. Each Lakadou has its own pitch and personality, depending on the size of the bamboo and the placement of the tuning pegs.\n\nTraditionally, the Lakadou was played during rituals, agricultural festivals, and informal gatherings. It could accompany dance, storytelling, or simply be enjoyed as a solo instrument under the shade of a tree. It was sometimes played to express emotions—joy, longing, or sorrow—or to pass the time during communal labor in the fields.\n\nWhat makes the Lakadou especially significant is its status as a self-contained instrument. It does not require any additional materials beyond the bamboo itself—no strings, no nails, no external fasteners—just natural design and human skill. This reflects a traditional ethos of sustainability and resourcefulness, values still highly regarded in rural Timorese life.\n\nWhile the instrument is still known in some communities today, its presence is fading. Younger generations are more familiar with modern instruments, and the skill of crafting Lakadou is no longer widely practiced or passed down. In some places, only a handful of elders remember how to make and play it, and the sound of the Lakadou has become rare in daily village life.\n\nEfforts to preserve the Lakadou are growing, however. Cultural festivals, school workshops, and local storytelling events have begun reintroducing the instrument as a piece of Timor-Leste’s musical heritage. Some artisans are even experimenting with new forms, adapting traditional techniques to contemporary performances.\n\nAs a musical tool, the Lakadou is humble. But as an expression of cultural identity, it speaks volumes. In its structure, sound, and spirit, it tells the story of a people who shaped their art from the land around them—and who, with care, may yet continue to do so for generations to come.

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.

▶ Play Video 8. Uwang Ahadas A Yakan Virtuoso\nCourtesy of the Gawad sa Manlilikha ng Bayan Executive Committee\n\nThe Yakan inhabit the island of Basilan just off the southern tip of the Zamboanga Peninsula of western Mindanao, particularly in the municipalities of Tipo, Lamitan, Sumisip, and Tuburan, and the islands of Sacol, Malanipa, and Tumalutab east of Zamboanga. The Yakan belong to the widespread Sama group, and their culture has become too specialized to be distinguished as a distinct group.\n\nThe Yakan’s language is closely related to the Sama, but their culture is more land orientated rather than the sea based. Agriculture consists largely of upland rice, although copra is also widespread. The main religion is Islam with syncretic elements from traditional and indigenous beliefs.\n\nThe Yakan are well-known for their elaborate dress, which is similar for males and females. For instance, both wear trousers. Noteworthy articles include the kandit, a fifteen-meter-long red sash worn by men, and the pinantupan, the women’s overskirt. Textile weaving done on the backstrap loom is much sought after, especially because of the intricate and beautiful motifs. The Yakan is one of the few groups that use tapestry loom producing the sophisticatedly woven pis syabit (headscarf for men) and seputangan (head cloth for women).\n\nThe Yakan have a rich musical tradition based on the pentatonic scale. Their musical instruments are usually made of bamboo, wood, and metal. The daluppak is a digging stick with a bamboo clapper. The kopak-kopak is a bamboo clapper on a stick. The kwintangan kayu is a percussion instrument consisting of five wooden beams suspended horizontally. The ends of the beams are tapered, and these are beaten. It is associated with planting and played to enhance plant growth. The wooden tuntungan is a suspended wooden ercussion plank with jar resonators, played with a pole during the harvest season for the purpose of giving thanks. The gabbang is a bamboo xylophone with five bars. The suling is a bamboo mouth flute used by men in courting. Another used by men to express love or admiration is the kulaing. The kulintangan or kwintangan consists of five bronze gongs arranged according to size and used during celebrations. The agung is a large deep gong used in ensemble performance.