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.

I am Alina Tamrakar. I am an architect currently working in documentation and restoration of heritage structures affected by the massive earthquake of 2015. I belong to Newa community who are the indigenous people of Kathmandu valley. Kathmandu is the capital of Nepal. Born and raised in a typical Newa family who has always put rituals and tradition in the first place, I was always very connected to the cultural heritage of Kathmandu. As I grew up being part of the festivals and rituals, there were always numbers of questions running inside: why do we celebrate these festivals, what is the story behind it, who initiated the traditions and so on. After the devastating earthquake took down so many monuments, some of which carried centuries-old history, it gave me time to reflect on the rich knowledge and skills that our ancestors held and handed it down to our generation. It also explained how tangible and intangible heritage are interlinked with each other. Also, a realization that there is still so much to learn from our heritage and to pass on to the next generation.\nAmong the Newa community, Tamrakars are one of such communities, who follow Buddhism. Gunla is one of many festivals celebrated in Kathmandu valley. It is the tenth month in Nepal Sambat lunar calendar, in which devotees from all around Kathmandu valley visit Swayambhu Stupa that is also one of UNESCO’s World Heritage Sites. The festival of Gunla last for one whole month. In addition to this, devotees also take a visit to different Buddhist courtyards called Baha-bahi and other stupas and chaityas. The devotees in the process recite Holy Scriptures and play devotional gunla music. Music groups from different communities take part in the procession. Like other numerous communities, Tamrakar community also has the musical group named “Tamrakar Gunla Baajan Khala” who have been taking part in playing gunla music and reciting Holy Scriptures from time immemorial. The procession starts from a traditional courtyard called “Piganani” in Maru, near Kathmandu Durbar Square. Piganani is the centre point of the location where Tamrakars initially settled in Kathmandu. Every day for the month of gunla, the community of around 20- 25 (on Saturdays and holidays the number increased to around 50 attendees) start the procession from Piganani at 5:30 am and visit the Swayambhu stupa and come back to Piganani and end the tour at around 8:00 am. On holidays, the team takes a longer route covering other major Buddhist monasteries, chaityas and stupas on the way. During the procession, the devotees and practitioners cover a distance of 6 kilometres.\nUntil three years back, I used to take part in the procession just as an audience listening to people reciting the scriptures and watching the team of young members playing the drums and cymbals to play devotional gunla music. Three years back, I enrolled as one of the practitioners and started taking part in the procession. I came to know that earlier, women were not allowed to play musical instruments in the gunla procession, but only take part as devotees. However, as time passed on, the society opened the doors for women as well. In today’s time, there are a huge number of women practitioners who have taken the initiative to be a part of the team.\nThe tradition of playing gunla music, according to local experts is thousands of years old practice. As much as this musical tour is interesting, it is equally full of knowledge regarding our culture and tradition. Such practices of cultural heritage are not only a matter of pride that an individual or the whole nation takes in but also a major affirmation that such huge collection of knowledge, skill and accomplishment that our ancestors have developed are being transferred to the next generation. Apart from carrying on the tradition, it is also very necessary that we understand the depth of each of these practices in order to keep the tradition alive in the long run. It is equally necessary that we know where our roots lie while we soar up to reach the sky. This is only possible when youths take the initiative to participate in these practices and talk about the “why”, “what” and “how” while they do so.\nDuring Gunla procession different traditional musical instruments are played. “Dhā” and “Nayo khin:” are drums played on one side by bare palm and with a wooden stick on the other are the main musical instruments played during the procession. The small cymbals called “tā” give the beat to the drums and big cymbals and trumpets are played along. For the first time, starting this year, flutes have also been added to the band. The music performance begins with “Dyo lhayegu”, which is a small introductory piece played in order to invoke the “Nāsa dya”, a deity of performing arts. There are separate pieces especially played depending upon the time and place in the procession. For example, the piece played while revolving a chaitya or stupa is different from a one played while beginning the procession.\nThe practice session for each year, begin one or two months prior to gunla month. Anyone who is capable of learning to play the instruments is eligible to participate. The members of Tamrakar community enrol their younger ones once they are ready to take part, while people from other communities are also welcomed to participate in learning and later take part in the procession. The practice sessions take place each evening in the courtyard of Piganani where a guru, a teacher takes a lead in taking music classes. In addition to a regular teacher, the elders in the Tamrakar Gunla Baajan community also offer their presence as well as their knowledge so that the learners get all the support they need. The sessions are one of such encouraging steps that the elder generation in the Tamrakar Gunla Baajan Khala take that make sure that the centuries-old tradition of playing gunla music is safely being transferred to the next generation.

The crocodile-shaped zither was one of musical instruments that Pyu delegation performed in China in AD 802 as part of cultural exchange programme. Michael Sign, one of members of Eastern India Company delegation visited King Bodaw Phaya in 1795, wrote about this musical instrument in his book. There are two types of crocodile zithers, of which one must be played with fingers and other with plectrum. The 3-stringed Crocodile Zither must be played with plectrum by strumming with the right hand, and fretting and plucking the strings with left hand. The first and third strings are tuned to LayPauk (Fourth Note), while the second string to ThanHman Tapauk (First Note).\nThe fine wood must be smeared with mud and left dry by itself. After it becomes well seasoned, it is curved into the shape of crocodile. The body must be made hollow. There is a sound hole underneath in which the sound is resonated. The three strings are stretched from its head to tail. There are two tuning pegs on the jaw of crocodile. The sound hole and the tuning pegs lie in different position. The strings are made of silk or nylon or alloy. Thirteen wooden frets are placed with the use of beeswax under the strings.\n-68 inches in length\n-7.5 inches in breadth\n-10.5 inches in height\n-17.5 inches in circumference

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.

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.

This dance is a reconstruction of the masked dance performed in the Drametse region, rearranged for a solo performance. ‘Nga’ means drum, and ‘Cham’ means ‘masked ritual dance’. The Drametse Nga Cham is a dance performed during the Drametse festival to commemorate the great teacher ‘Padmasambhava’, who brought Tibetan Buddhism to Bhutan in the 8th century.\n\nIt is said that Drametse Nga Cham originated from a dance performed by legendary male and female heroes living in the celestial world. Traditionally, it was performed by 10 musicians and 16 male dancers. The dancers wear monk’s robes and wooden masks depicting real or legendary animals, and dance in the temple yard.\n\nDrametse Nga Cham has an important place in the Bhutanese society, with religious and cultural significance. The Bhutanese see this dance as the source of their spiritual strength and a symbol of their national identity. However, there have been challenges in its transmission in recent years, with a decline in the number of practitioners and students.\n\nCharacteristics:\n∙Inscribed to the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2008\n∙Cham, a type of masked ritual dance\n\nPerformed by Ngawang Tencin\nDirected by Ngawang Tencin

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.

There is a tradition to celebrate the customary event for cutting the child’s hair for the first time, and it is called differently such as “urevleg urgeeh”. Mongols do cut the boy’s hair in his 3 and 5 years old and girl’s hair in her 2 and 4 years old. The most respected (with compatible year sign) person or guest touches the child’s hair first with wooden knife. Accordingly, a bundle of hair is cut off with scissors with honorary scarf tied to its handle. A cup of milk is given to a child for taste, a bit of milk is applied to the child’s forehead and the well-wishing words of benediction are chanted. While the child goes around the guests from right to left, the guests cut off pieces of hair. Every one of them gives well-wishing words and presents.

"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''.

Ca trù is a complex form of sung poetry found in the north of Viet Nam using lyrics written in traditional Vietnamese poetic forms. Ca trù groups comprise three performers: a female singer who uses breathing techniques and vibrato to create unique ornamented sounds, while playing the clappers or striking a wooden box, and two instrumentalists who produce the deep tone of a three-stringed lute and the strong sounds of a praise drum. Some Ca trù performances also include dance. The varied forms of Ca trù fulfill different social purposes, including worship singing, singing for entertainment, singing in royal palaces and competitive singing. Ca trù has fifty-six different musical forms or melodies, each of which is called thể cách. Folk artists transmit the music and poems that comprise Ca trù pieces by oral and technical transmission, formerly, within their family line, but now to any who wish to learn. Ongoing wars and insufficient awareness caused Ca trù to fall into disuse during the twentieth century. Although the artists have made great efforts to transmit the old repertoire to younger generations, Ca trù is still under threat of being lost due to the diminishing number and age of practitioners.

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.

The hne or oboe- like wind instrument occupies a critical position in the Myanmar music troupe. It belongs to the group of wind instruments and can cover the chromatic scale. It is found portrayed on the wooden door of the northern building on the platform of Bagan's Shwezigon Zedi. There are two kinds of hne, the big and the small. The hne consists of five parts:\n1. Reed which is made of the leaf from the toddy palm;\n2. Mouth piece made of gold, silver, brass, bronze or steel\n3. Tube or body of wood from padauk, yindaik, pyinkado, teak\n4. Horn\n5. "dano" or "cheek- guard" made of metal which encircles the upper moulding of the body; it guards the cheek which swells when blowing.\nThe big hne is an essential instrument which is played pleasantly occasions such as the ploughing ceremony or royal regatta when it accompanies the big drum, the bjo, sidaw, boating song, yeginthan theme. The big hne plays mournfully on inauspicious occasions when lamentation is called for. It accompanies the braintaung (egret wing) theme. In earlier days the big hne was accompanied by two short drums and one vertical drum when propitiating the nats (spirits) with bpunza (drum food). The small hne is played briskly to accompany the pot-drum and dobat. Currently used is the hne which produces C sharp note when four holes are closed. The tones produced by the hne are;\n1. one hole closed for the fifth degree\n2. two hole closed for the sixth degree\n3. three hole closed for the seventh degree\n4. four hole closed for fundamental C\n5. five hole closed for the second degree\n6. six hole closed for the third degree\n7. seven hole closed for the fourth degree\nWhen all holes are open the tone produced is of the fourth degree.