List of Intangible Cultural Heritage in Need of Urgent Safeguarding, 2012\nAla-kiyiz is the most vivid example of Kyrgyz handicrafts. Translated as “motley felt,” ala-kiyiz represents a felt carpet with ornaments heaved onto its upper surface. It is mostly a carpet for everyday use rather than as element of decoration.\n\nShyrdak is made with a mosaic technique and is one of the most complex techniques in felt carpet making. One of the most important qualities of shyrdak is its durability. The average lifecycle of a shyrdak is approximately a hundred years, sometimes even longer.

Highly traditional nomadic rites, such as the tusau kesu, have been preserved among the Kazakhs, but the people’s understanding of the rites has been transformed. For Kazakh forbearers, rituals like tusau kesu (cutting the rope) or ashamayga mingyzu (landing on a horse) were rituals for beginning a journey, the journey through life and the exploration of the space around them. Many Kazakh families believe that the tusau kesu rite helps accelerate the child’s physical development so that the child can walk confidently, but if the child walks weakly, the rite can be repeated. The rite also symbolizes the discovery of a life path. The rite transfers spiritual and physical qualities to the child from a respected person elected by the parents. A grandmother, for example, shows the techniques of fetter weaving to her granddaughter.

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.

▶ 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.

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.

Sau-Batar is one of Timor-Leste’s most cherished agricultural ceremonies, marking the successful harvesting of corn—batar, the staple crop that lies at the heart of both sustenance and spiritual life for many communities. Far more than an agricultural routine, this ritual reflects a worldview where nature, ancestors, and community are deeply intertwined.\n\nThe ceremony typically begins with a symbolic act called “taking out the old corn and bringing in the new.” This signifies a transition between agricultural cycles and expresses gratitude to the spirits of the land for their blessings. Families gather at their sacred houses (uma lulik), bringing both harvested corn and cooked rice to share in a ritual meal that reaffirms communal bonds.\n\nCentral to the ritual is the lia-nain—a customary elder responsible for oral tradition and ritual practice—who recites prayers, chants, and invocations handed down through generations. These words are not merely spoken; they are believed to activate ancestral protection and ensure future abundance. The corn offered during the ceremony becomes sacred, often preserved in specially designated granaries or placed on altars within the sacred house as a gesture of respect to the ancestors.\n\nMusic and dance are vital parts of Sau-Batar. Performances of Tebe Lilin (Candle Dance) and other local dances transform the occasion into a festive gathering, where movement and rhythm mirror the unity and joy of a successful harvest. The babadok drum keeps the beat as men and women, elders and children, participate in a shared expression of thanks and renewal.\n\nThe ceremony also involves the symbolic sharing of corn among relatives and neighbors, emphasizing that harvest is not an individual achievement but a collective gift. In some cases, leftover corn from the previous season is burned or ceremonially discarded to make room for the new yield, representing a fresh start and spiritual cleansing.\n\nBeyond its religious and social meanings, Sau-Batar also serves as a moment of informal education. It is during this event that younger generations hear the stories of how rituals are performed, why they matter, and what each gesture or offering means. Through active participation, children and youth absorb the knowledge of land stewardship, spiritual ethics, and cultural identity.\n\nIn recent years, as commercial farming methods expand and traditional schedules shift, Sau-Batar has faced challenges. Yet in many rural areas, the ceremony continues to be practiced with dedication, often with support from local schools and cultural preservation initiatives.\n\nFor the communities that uphold it, Sau-Batar remains a vital link between past and present, the visible and the invisible, and the land and its people. It is a ceremony not just of harvest, but of harmony—a living tradition that continues to nourish both body and spirit.

The body of the harp is made of good quality Padauk wood. It is not as same as the Myanmar Harp because it is curved in the shape of the hull of a boat. The arm of the harp is made of PJn:ma (kind of large timber tree/ larger stroemiaspecion). The floral scroll-work is curved at the top of the arm and the square shape of the peg is used to tune the strings of harp. The reed of the harp is made of cutch wood. The body of young cow’s skin is covered the body of sound body. There are nine harp strings that are put on it. The creeper strings and the cane strings were yarned together as the harp strings which were used in the past time. Nowadays, steel strings are put on as the harp strings. When making the Karean harp ,first, go to the deep forest and make offering consisting of hands of bananas, coconut etc. The harp is made to be finished in the forest. Before putting the strings on it, it has to be made to gain magical power using star-flower, jasmine, the rock dammar flower, the frangipani flower, the vachellia flower (kind of fragrant flower) and the tiger-lady (species of orchid ). After making the harp, women don’t touch and hold it to make it more magical power according to Karean’s Tradition or custom.\nThe playing method of the Karean Harp is easy and simple. It can be easily learned to play by hearing musical scale up and down when the skillful player is playing it. After tuning the harp strings, it is held tenderly to the bosom. Left hand is placed with five or six strings for opening and closing tunes. The rest of one to four strings have to be played with the right thumb and forefinger.

This is a dance in the Kathakali tradition, one of the 4 major traditional dances of India, based on the story of Daksha Yaagam, about King Daksha, father of Sathi, wife of Shiva. Kathakali is a traditional art form dating back 600 years, originating from Kerala State in Southwest India in the 17th century. It is a comprehensive theatrical performance combining dance, theatre, music, makeup and costumes in a cohesive whole. Just like the Bharatanatyam, the Kathakali is a religious play in which the performer recites stories in the form of poetry and expresses it through dance and acting. The plot of Kathakali dances are based on traditional stories such as the epics of Mahabharata, Ramayana and Shaiva which form the roots of inspiration in Indian culture. At the core of the aesthetics of Indian dance is the purpose of oneness with the supernatural or rasa.\n\nKathakali performances begin at 6 pm in outdoor stages and carry on until morning the next day. Thus, it requires great physical and mental strength, and only dancers who have gone through the toughest training are allowed to perform. Traditionally, the dance was performed only by men and male dancers played women’s roles as well. Although it was a form of high culture, only performed in the royal courts in the 17th century, it is now widely enjoyed by the general public.\n\nCharacteristics:\n∙One of the 8 major traditional dances recognized by the Indian government\n\nPerformed by Kallekulangara Kathakali Foundation\nChoreographed by P.N.Ventikattaraman

Cultural space of Baysun was recognized by UNESCO as the “Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity” among the first 19 in 2001. Consequently, in 2008, it was included in the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of the Humanity of UNESCO. Inclusion the space to the List enhanced the opportunity of preservation, documentation and conduct scientific researches of artistic traditions and culture of Baysun district. It is a world bringing together settled and nomadic traditions, Turkic and eastern Iranian peoples. The traditional culture of Baysun, besides Islam, has its roots in ancient cults and faiths. In its folklore one can see traditions with elements of Zoroastrianism and Buddhism, animism and ancestors worship. Grazing patterns have not changed in a thousand years. Livestock are still the main measure of wealth, and gardening is a male tradition. Hand spinning wheels, graters, tandirs, water mills, and blacksmiths using bellows all still exist. National clothes are made, such as doppi and chapans and head scarves for men and women, using craft traditions and local ornamental decorations dating from the tenth and eleventh centuries. Old customs and rituals govern life from birth to death. There is much historical heritage and native wisdom in them.

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.

Along the coastal regions of Timor-Leste, especially in areas where seawater meets fertile land, communities have preserved a unique tradition known as Tein-Masin—the age-old practice of salt making. More than just a method for producing seasoning, this practice reflects generations of local knowledge, environmental adaptation, and cultural ritual.\n\nThe process begins with the careful selection of salty earth, which is usually dug from the beach or coastal swamps. This salt-rich soil is placed into large woven baskets or wooden containers and then carefully filtered using fresh water collected from nearby springs. The resulting brine is collected in clay pots or metal vessels and then boiled over a wood fire for hours—sometimes days—until only fine salt crystals remain.\n\nSalt production is typically carried out by women and elders who have mastered the delicate timing and techniques required for successful extraction. Every step—from gathering the earth to managing the fire’s intensity—demands attention, patience, and experience. It is common to see family members working together, with children helping to fetch water or gather firewood, making it both a household activity and a community effort.\n\nBefore the salt-making begins, it is customary to conduct a ritual led by a lia-nain (traditional spiritual leader) or elder. An animal, often a chicken, is sacrificed and its blood is offered to local spirits as a request for protection and success. This ritual underscores the belief that nature’s resources must be treated with respect, and that balance between human needs and the environment must be maintained.\n\nSalt produced through Tein-Masin is more than a culinary product—it is a symbol of cultural resilience and a vital part of local economies. It is exchanged in traditional markets, used in rituals, and stored as a valuable household good. In times of hardship or isolation, it has even served as a form of currency.\n\nToday, while industrial salt is widely available, many communities still choose to practice Tein-Masin, valuing not only the quality of the hand-made salt but also the cultural meaning embedded in its production. Yet, challenges remain: the practice is labor-intensive and yields are modest, and younger generations are increasingly drawn away by urban migration and modern lifestyles.\n\nPreserving Tein-Masin means more than protecting a traditional technique—it means safeguarding a way of life shaped by harmony with nature, intergenerational collaboration, and deep spiritual connection to the land and sea.

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.