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.

#bhutan #bhutantravel #bhutanculture #유네스코아태무형유산센터 #유네스코 \n\nYig-par koni is an adverb that means engraving of scripts which is the art of Xylography, one of the indigenous craftsmanship art of Bhutan. Script engraving is done using special wood locally called Tag-pa shing (Birch: Betula utilis) that flourishes at altitudes varying from 3000 to 4200 meters above sea level. Tag-pa shing can be easily identified by its bark that has a mix red and pink and brown colours alternatively across the trunk like that of a tiger’s skin thus got its name. The art is considered as one of the religious craftsmanship since its significance, production and usage are all connected to spiritualistic believes and purpose.\n\nIn Bhutan, the presence of skills for making woodblock prints are seen in temples, monasteries and Dzongs (fortress) every part of the country in the form of biographies, excellent teachings of the Buddha printed from woodblocks. The earliest biography is that of Terton (Hidden treasure discoverer) Pema Lingpa (1450-1521), as prophesied by Guru Padmasambava, the epitome of the Secret Teachings of Tantric Buddhism. Terton Pema Lingpa was the last reincarnate of Princess Pema Sal (?), daughter of King Thrisong Deutsan of Tibet. Owing to the propensity of his previous lives, the Terton knew craft works without training, and dedicating his skills to ensure the continuity of the Buddha’s teachings, had made uncountable number woodblocks, available in the monasteries established by the Terton himself and by his sons as well as in the house of a number of his patrons that can be seen even today.\n\nMoreover, Thugse Dawa Gyaltshan (1499-1586), the son of Pema Lingpa, had also engraved as many as 614 woodblocks for the collected works and autobiography in memory of his father which is still preserved at the sacred place of Kunzang Drag, Bumthang Dzongkhag (district). After Terton Pema Lingpa and his heart son Thugse Dawa Gyaltshen had started the tradition of woodblock print, Choje Ngagwang Tenzin (1522-1590), the reincarnate of Gartoen who was the son of Phajo Drugom Zhigpo, engraved the biography of Phajo Drugom in about 1570 (C.E). Then, in the 17th century Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, having satisfactorily completed all the activities related to the dual system and before he went into the final retreat (i.e. parinirvana), initiated a project to engrave the collected works of the omniscient Pema Karpo (1527-1592) and all the essential ones and its prints are distributed them to all the monasteries and sangha communities as dharma donations.\n\nHe created of the seat of Je Khenpo as the overall head of sangha monasteries and ecclesiastical affairs and that of Desi, who functioned as the secular head of the country. He had also appointed officials to fit these high-ranking positions. The successive Je Khenpo and Desis ensured the practice, manage and spread of the teachings and the good system of administration, by engraving unlimited number of woodblocks prints in their respective areas which can be seen still today in all the historical monuments. However, due to the advancement of printing technologies, the National Library & Archives of Bhutan is the only institution that is upholding the xylography art in the country while the practice is turned its form to an oral account.\n\nFor more information \nhttps://www.ichlinks.com/archive/elements/elementsV.do?elementsUid=13874508750347675141

This documentary explores the cultural and spiritual significance of Uma Lulik (Sacred Houses) in Timor-Leste, which serve as powerful symbols of Timorese identity passed down through generations. These sacred houses are often located in high, remote areas—both for protection and to maintain spiritual connection—and are key centers for preserving tangible and intangible cultural heritage, such as sacred water sources, stones, tombs, and rituals.\n\nThe film highlights the distinct architectural features of Uma Lulik, such as the male and female wooden pillars (Ai-rin Mane and Ai-rin Feto), which carry profound cultural meanings. It explains the differences between Uma Lulik and Uma Fukun—supporting clan houses—and Uma To’os, sacred houses used by Timorese communities living in urban areas like Dili.\n\nThrough interviews with cultural custodians like Tiu Eugénio J. Sarmento and Tiu João dos Santos Hohulu, viewers gain insights into construction rituals, traditional ceremonies, and the symbolic meanings embedded in the sacred architecture. These include elaborate community efforts to transport and erect wooden pillars, sacrificial offerings, and spiritual dances that mark the creation of Uma Lulik.\n\nThe video also features the Knua Lulik Hohulu in Fatubessi, a living example of cultural continuity, where traditions are upheld by local leaders through collective roles and ancestral knowledge.\n\nFinally, the documentary emphasizes the efforts of the Government of Timor-Leste, particularly through the Secretary of State for Arts and Culture, to safeguard and promote sacred cultural sites. Through active community engagement and support for traditional practices, these initiatives aim to ensure the intergenerational transmission of cultural memory and identity, while also encouraging cultural tourism.

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.

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.

Bakhshi - is an epic creator. The Bakhshi art is one of the specific genres of folk performing art. Bakhshi is a master and improvisator of words and stories, a skillful musician (skillfully plays on certain musical instrument) and singer (possesses the skills of traditional singing), who can accompany his performance with mimicry and plastique. He should be familiar with the life of his nation, with its culture and history. Moreover, he should have a rich vocabulary and masterly use popular language, be able to play with words, use their diverse forms. And all these features are connected with the art of bakhshi (bakhshichilik), which has centuries-long history. The repertoire of Uzbek storytellers and narrators includes heroic, historical and romantic dostons, which incorporated ancient cultural traditions, memory of the nation, its spiritual world and historical destiny, its civic, moral and aesthetic ideals. In dostons it is possible to find the ideas of patriotism and humanism, commitment and love, friendship and brotherhood. At the same time, freedom of fantasy, which is observed among bakhshis, makes possible artistic realization of folk ideals. It should be noted that doston is not about verbal performance only. It is also the work of art which is prosaic, poetic and musical. Indeed, bakhshi does not read doston but sings it. The singing is accompanied by playing on dombra or by instrumental ensemble. The whole artistic composition, all figurative means and expressions of doston are aimed at improving the perception of listeners.

Mongol Tuuli is an oral tradition comprising heroic epics that run from hundreds to thousands of lines and combine benedictions, eulogies, spells, idiomatic phrases, fairy tales, myths and folk songs. They are regarded as a living encyclopedia of Mongolian oral traditions and immortalize the heroic history of the Mongols. Epic performers are distinguished by their prodigious memory and skills, combining singing, vocal improvisation and musical composition coupled with theatrical elements. Epic lyrics are performed to musical accompaniment on instruments such as morin khuur and tovshuur. Epics are performed during social and public events, including state affairs, weddings, a child’s first haircut, naadam and worship of sacred sites. Epics evolved over many centuries, and reflect nomadic lifestyles, social behaviors, religion, mentalities and imagination. Epic performers cultivate epic traditions from generation to generation, learning, performing and transmitting techniques within kinship circles, from fathers to sons.

Benediction is a powerful expression of the miraculous capacity of words. It is one of the genres of Mongolian oral poetry that uses melodies. Benedictions propitiate people’s future happiness and well-being through skillfully composed and recited poems. It is unique in a way that minstrels sing the benediction completely from memory, and also by adding their own versions of words or improvising totally new verses to fit particular situations or events. By the invitation of people, a person who knows the order of feast and ceremonies well and mastered in the benediction and its melody says the benediction with use of the holly silk scarf, milk in the silver bowl, and Airag in bowl. The benediction is oral poetry which contains a beginning, main part and ending part.

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.

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.

Topeng is a word which means ‘wooden mask’ and is also used to refer to a form of masked dance theater which is transmitted in Java and Bali. ‘Panji Topeng’ is one of the most popular Topeng performances, based on the Panji chronicles, transmitted in Java. The tales of Panji, which exist in a range of variations, have been transmitted widely around the Southeast Asian region, and have inspired a wide range of traditional Indonesian dances, including Topeng performed in Cirebon, West Java and Malang, Java.\n\nPanji Topeng is characterized by the fluid and smooth movements of dancers wearing white masks. The silent and refined movements of dancers that almost appear to be gliding rather than walking, is the pinnacle of artistry in the Panji Topeng. After the diffusion of Hinduism, epics such as the Ramayana and Mahahbarata became the theme of Topeng dances. The dancers express fables, heroic sagas and legends about kings in dance, set to the music of gamelan. The oldest record of the Topeng dance can be found in the Nāgarakrĕtāgama epic about Hayam Wuruk (1334~1389), king of Majapahit, a Hindu kingdom in the 14th century. A handwritten copy of the Nāgarakrĕtāgama (1365), stored in the National Library of Indonesia, was included the Memory of the World Register in 2013.\n\nCharacteristics:\n∙Masked dance\n∙“Nāgarakrĕtāgama” (1365), the oldest existing documentation of the Topeng dance was inscribed to the Memory of the World Register in 2013.\n\nPerformed by Dadijono Darmawan\nDirected by Dadijono Darmawan\nChoreographed by Dadijono Darmawan

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.