▶ 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.

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.

Folk Dances of Nepal_Kami Nach\n\nPerformer: Unknown \nDate of Recording: 1991 \nCaste: Kami \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\nThe Kami Naach is a traditional sword and shield dance from Jumla. It is performed in memory of Purichandra Tiruwa Kami, a famous Kami who was the military chief of King Bali (crowned in 1461) of Jumla. The dance is performed for various important life event ceremonies, including those of birth and marriage, but not death. Kami, people also known as bishwokarma, make weapons and tools for a living. In ancient times, this dance was performed by warriors as a rehearsal for war. Performers exhibit various positions of a soldier fighting in battle in this dance.

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.

Tebe-tebe is one of the most widely practiced and deeply cherished traditional dances in Timor-Leste. Rooted in communal identity and spiritual expression, it is performed during a wide range of ceremonies—rituals of healing and harvest, weddings, sacred house gatherings (uma lulik), and commemorative events that bring entire communities together.\n\nAt its core, tebe-tebe is a line or circle dance performed by groups of people—often with women and men linking arms or shoulders—who step and sway in unison to the beat of traditional instruments like the babadok (a hand-held drum). The movements are deliberately grounded and rhythmic, characterized by stomping feet, subtle sways, and communal gestures that convey strength, connection, and balance.\n\nThe dance is accompanied by chanted songs, usually performed in a call-and-response style. These songs are often rich in metaphor, addressing themes of unity, gratitude, remembrance, or negotiation with the spirit world. The lyrics, sung in Tetun or other local languages, carry encoded histories, ancestral teachings, and emotional expressions that elevate the dance beyond entertainment into the realm of cultural storytelling.\n\nTebe-tebe plays a vital role in moments of social and spiritual transition. It may be performed to welcome guests, to celebrate a marriage, to honor the dead, or to invoke protection and blessing during a harvest ceremony such as sau-batar. In each case, the dance serves to activate communal energy and connect the visible world with the ancestral realm.\n\nThe inclusive nature of the dance—performed by people of all ages and social backgrounds—reflects its egalitarian spirit. It is not restricted to professional dancers or experts; rather, it is meant to be shared, learned through observation and participation from a young age. In many villages, elders pass on the steps and songs during festivals and ceremonies, and school programs and cultural centers are increasingly incorporating tebe-tebe into youth education to ensure its survival.\n\nWhile variations exist across regions, the essence of tebe-tebe remains consistent: it is a dance of the people, by the people, and for the people. In its rhythm and repetition, the community finds both cohesion and catharsis—expressing sorrow, joy, solidarity, and reverence through a single, unified movement.\n\nToday, tebe-tebe continues to evolve. It is performed not only in rural rituals but also on national stages, international cultural events, and heritage festivals. And while some modern adaptations have emerged, the traditional forms are still held with deep respect, especially by elders who carry the memory of its ceremonial power.\n\nIn every echo of the babadok and every synchronized step of the dancers, tebe-tebe tells a timeless story—of a people connected to one another, to their ancestors, and to the living land they call home.

Chewing bua-malus—a combination of areca nut (bua) and betel pepper leaf (malus)—is a widespread and deeply symbolic cultural practice throughout Timor-Leste. While it is often seen as a daily habit, its role goes far beyond oral tradition and personal enjoyment. Bua-malus is inseparable from the fabric of Timorese life, marking every major social, spiritual, and ceremonial moment with its presence.\n\nAt its simplest, the practice involves chewing pieces of areca nut wrapped in a fresh green betel leaf, often accompanied by a pinch of slaked lime (ahu) to release the active compounds and deepen the flavor. The mixture produces a distinctive red juice and is known for its mildly stimulating effects. But in cultural terms, bua-malus acts as a form of communication—an offering, a blessing, a welcome, and a bridge between generations.\n\nIn marriage ceremonies (barlake), bua-malus plays a key ritual role in exchanges between families. During funerals, it may be offered to the deceased or distributed among mourners as a sign of shared respect and continuity. When sacred houses (uma lulik) are built or restored, or when a newborn baby undergoes a fase-matan (eye-opening) ritual, elders may gently rub a paste of bua-malus onto the baby’s eyelids and forehead to protect them and spiritually anchor their life.\n\nElders and ritual leaders (lia-nain) often carry small pouches filled with the ingredients and use them to open or conclude negotiations, calm disputes, or honor guests. Offering bua-malus is a profound gesture of hospitality and peace—it signals trust, respect, and the intention to share one’s truth openly. Refusing it, in some contexts, may even be considered a subtle social offense.\n\nThe act of chewing is often done communally, accompanied by conversation, storytelling, or silence. The red-stained lips and relaxed posture of those gathered in a shaded courtyard or under a tree reflect a rhythm of life tied to land, time, and relationship. Many communities regard bua-malus not just as a habit but as a living heritage—something that must be handed down with care and intention.\n\nDespite its enduring presence, the practice is evolving. Urbanization, health concerns, and shifting social norms have altered how and where people chew bua-malus. Younger generations may engage with it more selectively, and some of the ritual meanings risk being diluted or forgotten.\n\nNonetheless, the cultural power of bua-malus remains strong. Whether offered to welcome a guest, seal an agreement, or bless a new life, this humble bundle of nut, leaf, and lime carries the weight of centuries of wisdom. It connects people not only to each other but to their ancestors, their land, and the values that continue to guide communal life in Timor-Leste.

Customs and traditions connected with wedding ceremonies are divided into three parts: pre-wedding ceremonies, those conducted during the wedding, and those performed after the wedding. These ceremonies vary in different regions of Uzbekistan, but they have some commonalities. For example, common pre-wedding ceremonies include organizing matchmaking at the bride’s house, giving toyona (financial aid) by relatives, registering legal and religious marriage, blessing process (fotiha berish) by older people. The wedding ceremony is a grandiose conduction at both the bride’s and the groom’s houses. Post-wedding ceremonies include salom (bride’s greetings), calling relatives of the groom, and others.\n\nThis film includes the customs and traditions connected with a wedding ceremony in Margilan, Fergana.

▶ 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

Kerchang is a traditional game of the indigenous people of Malaysia and a cultural heritage facing extinction. As a form of cultural expression, it carries significance beyond being a mere game, playing an important part in marriage customs. \nThe shape of kerchang and its string signify a woman and a man, respectively. In a wedding, the bride’s father gives a kerchang to the groom, who must earn his right to marriage by solving the game’s ten stages. The way a man unpuz\u0002zles a kerchang reflects his ability to take care of his family. Kerchang is a symbol of the symbiotic relationship between traditional indigenous culture and nature