Aitys is a contest centred on improvised oral poetry spoken or sung to the accompaniment of traditional musical instruments – the Kazakh dombra. Two performers (akyns) compete with one other to improvise verses on topical themes in a battle of wits that alternates between humorous ripostes and penetrating philosophical reflections. During the competition, the performers sit opposite one another improvising a dialogue on topics chosen by the audience. The winner is the performer considered to have demonstrated the best musical skills, rhythm, originality, resourcefulness, wisdom and wit. The most meaningful and witty expressions often become popular sayings. The element is practiced on a variety of occasions, ranging from local festivities to nationwide events, where practitioners often use the contest to raise important social issues. Although it was traditionally performed only by men, many women now participate in Aitys and use the contest to express women’s aspirations and viewpoints.

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.

This ancient theatre form created by Malaysia’s Malay communities combines acting, vocal and instrumental music, gestures and elaborate costumes. Specific to the villages of Kelantan in northwest Malaysia, where the tradition originated, Mak Yong is performed mainly as entertainment or for ritual purposes related to healing practices.

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.

Elegant, joyful, and rooted in everyday village life, Bidu Lensu-Mutin—the White Handkerchief Dance—is one of the most beloved traditional dances in the Suai Loro community of Covalima, Timor-Leste. Performed by young girls with white scarves in hand, the dance is a celebration of welcome, harmony, and feminine grace, passed from mother to daughter over generations.\n\nThe name lensu-mutin comes from the Tetun words for “white handkerchief,” which the dancers carry as they move in coordinated steps and gestures. The origin story, widely shared in oral tradition, speaks of seven girls who danced with white scarves to welcome their community members back from a corn harvest. Their spontaneous joy and coordinated movements captured the spirit of unity and gratitude, and the dance has been cherished ever since.\n\nPerformed during weddings, religious celebrations, community gatherings, and rituals involving sacred houses (uma lulik), Bidu Lensu-Mutin carries layers of meaning. The white scarf symbolizes purity, blessing, and good intentions. Dancers use it to wave, twirl, and gesture in graceful arcs, often moving in circular or serpentine formations that reflect the flowing rhythm of traditional life.\n\nAccompanied by soft babadok drumming and gentle singing in the Tetun-Terik language, the dance creates an atmosphere of warmth and welcome. The songs, often metaphorical, may include blessings for the couple in a wedding, prayers for peace in a community, or expressions of joy and connection. In some versions of the performance, older women sing while the younger girls dance, creating a multigenerational moment of transmission.\n\nLearning the dance happens organically within families and the community. Young girls imitate their older sisters, mothers, and aunts at ceremonies or home gatherings. In recent years, schools have also incorporated the dance into cultural programs and performances, ensuring its continued presence in the lives of younger generations.\n\nWhat sets Bidu Lensu-Mutin apart is its gentle spirit and universal appeal. It does not require elaborate costumes or formal training—just the willingness to move together with grace and intention. The dance represents a form of cultural continuity that is deeply tied to everyday experiences and shared values: welcoming guests, honoring ancestors, and expressing collective joy.\n\nThough still widely practiced in Suai Loro and surrounding communities, cultural leaders recognize the importance of continued teaching and celebration. As modern influences shape young people’s interests and identities, Bidu Lensu-Mutin offers a graceful reminder of the beauty found in tradition and the strength found in unity.

Khovd Province, located in western Mongolia, is a vibrant tapestry of majestic landscapes, diverse ethnic communities, and deep-rooted cultural traditions. Home to more than ten ethnic groups—including the Kazakhs, Torguud, Durvud, Zakhchin, Uriankhai, and Myangad—Khovd is a cradle of intangible cultural heritage passed down for generations.\n\nSurrounded by sacred snow-capped peaks and vast river valleys, Khovd is rich in biodiversity, with over 1,300 plant species and hundreds of rare and endangered animals, including snow leopards and Altai argali. Its historical landscape is just as abundant, featuring ancient rock carvings, deer stones, and the renowned Gurvan Tsenkher Cave with 40,000-year-old petroglyphs.\n\nThe province is a living museum of nomadic knowledge and craftsmanship. Locals uphold centuries-old traditions of herding, long-distance camel caravans, and skilled artisanal work—everything from intricate ethnic costumes and woodcraft to leather and felt production. Unique musical and dance traditions, such as bielgee (expressive dance), Tsuur flute playing, and the haunting throat singing khoomii, echo across the region, preserving the voices of the past.\n\nAnnual festivals celebrate horse racing, wrestling, and the famed Kazakh Eagle Festival, showcasing the enduring bond between eagle hunters and their majestic birds. Epic poetry, the melodies of the horsehead fiddle, and region-specific tea customs further enrich Khovd’s living cultural heritage.\n\nThis documentary journeys through the soul of Khovd Province—where every mountain, melody, and movement tells a story. It’s a place where Mongolia’s ancestral spirit is not only remembered but proudly lived every day.

"There are over 120 different types of knucklebone games are played in Mongolia, and the “knucklebone shooting” is the most common spread one among the general public. The Knucklebone shooting is a traditional game that contains the traditional custom and culture in complex way. Shooting tablets are flicked towards 30 pieces of ''Khasaa'', a target laid on a zurkhai (wooden surface) in a given order depending on the current game, at a distance of 9 elbows (4.72meters). It is a team game that each team competes by shooting to knock down more of the khasaa than the other. During tournaments, shooters communicate not in words, but by singing ''Knucklebone Shooting'' melodies and tunes such as ''Hail you, friend',' ''Hit the target,'' ''Hail the board'' that sound more or less like ''Long Songs''.

The word ‘dikir’ is a product of the combination of two arts that are ‘dikir’ (loosely translated as ‘song’) and ‘pantun’ (‘quatrain’), or ‘dikir’ and ‘karut’ (loosely translated as ‘story’). The word ‘karut’ is from the terminology ‘to tell stories in the form of quatrain or poem’. Thus, the names Dikir Barat, Dikir Karut, Dikir Pantun and Dikir Syair have the same meaning. Dikir Barat is a unique musical art form which involves the combination of singing, poetry reciting, synchronised dancing, and of course, music. This arts form has been listed as a National Heritage in the year 2009

Inscribed on the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2018\nKhon is a performing art that combines musical, vocal, literary, dance, ritual, and handicraft elements, traditionally transmitted in royal or princely courts, and in dance masters’ households. It tells the story of Ramakien—the localized Thai version of the Ramayana epic. The drama is enacted through dancing accompanied by a piphat classical xylophone ensemble, singing, and narration. On one level, Khon exemplifies the refined artistic traditions nurtured by the Thai courts throughout centuries. On another level, as a captivating theatrical production, it offers a rich experience that can be appreciated and understood by individuals from diverse social backgrounds.

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.

The Buklog is a thanksgiving ritual practiced by the Subanen people in Southern Philippines, and is one of the most spectacular and elaborate rituals in the nation.\n\nThis video follows the Buklog Thindeg, which is performed together by several communities in the Zamboanga Peninsula. Participants hold sacred an elevated wooden structure called the Buklog, from which the ritual derives its name, while dancing and singing to please the spirits. The Buklog is a powerful ritual to unite the Subanen community, but it faces an uncertain future due to urbanization and modernization.