Ebru is the traditional art of creating colorful patterns by sprinkling and brushing color pigments on a pan of oily water and then transforming this pattern to a special paper. It has been a traditional art of book enriching calligraphy and binding books for many centuries. In the 13th century, the first forms of Ebru emerged in Central Asia and spread to Anatolia through Iran. During the Ottoman period, Turkish calligraphers and artists created new forms and perfected techniques.\nEbru is an art which consists in the production of certain patterns and effects, by means of color containing a few drops of ox-gall (kind of natural acid helping the colors sprinkle on the gum) so prepared as to float upon a preparation of condensed liquid with the use of kitre (kind of herbal gum), possessing certain properties to the colors prepared for the purpose and which color floated and formed into patterns upon the surface of the liquid, are taken off by laying on a sheet of paper.\nSeveral patterns such as gelgit, tarakli, hatip, bülbül yuvasi, çiçekli evolved over centuries. The colored effects of Ebru are achieved through patterns; that is by employing stereotype designs. The colors are natural pigments acquired by natural methods and most popularly employed colors are bright, fresh green, red and yellow. In other words, the designs or motifs indicate their common pattern. The most frequently seen designs are flowers, foliage, ornamental, latticework, mosque, first quarter moon and other images.

A unique female-dominated performance held only on the 8th and 9th day of the 7th lunar month in the two communities of Ura-ma-krong (main village of Ura) and Shingkhar, the farthest settlement under Ura gewog (block) in Bumthang Dzongkhag (district). In Ura dialect, Intangible Cultural Heritage (ICH) is usually called Saang (smoke offering). It is said that in the old days, when there were yak herders who usually came from their village to raise the yaks at Purshey la (one of the mountains overlooking Ura village), they welcomed the female performers by burning sang at Korgang (the place believed to be the place where the deity descends or dwells and where the female performers circumambulate the stupa). Hence, community members refer to the festival as Sang or Sang na gai-sang (on the way to the Sang offering). Another interpretation states that the female participants begin their offering by making various medicinal herbs and other fresh offerings go up in smoke while appeasing the main female deity named A-shey Lhamo and her entourage, namely Gawa Lhamo, Kiba Lhamo, Champa Lhamo, and Dropa Lhamo. However, in addition to the aforementioned attendant goddesses, Shingkhar A-zhi (pronounced locally) Lhamo has Lam-dron Lhamo forming five attendant goddesses. Therefore, the festival and performance were called Sang from the first offering. \n\nThe other name of the festival, A-shey Lhamo, is interpreted literally by outsiders and some learned community members as the lyrics of the religious song sung and danced in honor of the deity A-shey Lhamo. Colloquially, the term A-shey is addressed to either the queen or the elder sisters, and Lhamo is a general term for the divine goddess.\n\nThe origin of Sang or A-shey Lhamo is that during the Dung Lhawang Rabgay (local ruler), not long before the emergence of the Dung caste system in Bhutan around the 10th-11th century, there was a misfortune of Shey-ned (diarrheal infection) that spread among the children of the Ura community. People sought the advice of their ruler as there was no tradition of performing rituals or treatments. Thus, Dung Lhawang introduced Drakpa, who had a divine bloodline, to appease the female local deity by performing dances. He composed the lyrics in the typical Ura dialect and ordered that they be performed by female members of the community. The Lord also determined the place: Pur-shey la (written Pur-gyal la) along with the things to be sacrificed and also the steps. Following the advice, the women performed the dance, which gradually helped the children recover from the epidemic. After that, the performance of A-shey Lhamo was practiced.\n\nAccording to the origin, A-shey Lhamo and the goddesses accompanying her are both the deities of the place and deities of the Bon khar tradition. Perhaps they are the other form of Tshering chey nga (the five sisters of longevity) who appeared in the Bon tradition before they were introduced by Guru Padsambava as the tutelary deity of Buddhism, just as many Bonpo deities were later transformed as protectors of the sacred teachings of the Buddha. In the poetry of A-shey Lhamo, it is mentioned that they reside in the high mountains Gang-toed thoen po. The road to their citadel is like a mule track, filled with the sweet fragrance of Ba-loo (Rhododendron ciliatum) and Su-loo (Rhododendron setosum). She delights in the first share of Mar-chang Ara (locally brewed wine) and Kara and Buram (honey and brown sugar) and sits down on the white sheepskin mat. She resides gracefully in a palace of precious gems with golden columns and silver windows. Apart from the above description of her residence, there is no text describing her appearance, only the names of her sisters and the goddess herself.

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.

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.

The traditional musical instruments of Myanmar were prominent throughout the nation’s history. The instruments were developed as early as the Pyu Era, Bagan Era and many were dominant features of music during the Innwa Era and Konbaung Era.\n\nWhile some of these instruments have been preserved and are used today, others have been lost to history.\nIn an attempt to preserve the traditional musical instruments of Myanmar, the Ministry of Culture displayed traditional instruments and distributed the books about the instruments during an exhibition in 1955. This research shows thirty-three kinds of instruments. Moreover, in a 2003 celebration of traditional instruments, the Ministry of Culture exhibited over two hundred traditional instruments at the national museum.\nWhile the instruments on display were representative of many regions and states, many instruments were not included.\nBecause of this lack of full representativeness, additional research through field studies is required. This project proposal addresses this need.\n\nTo create a preliminary basis towards developing a national ICH inventory of craftsmanship and performing arts of traditional musical instruments in Myanmar. To safeguard ICH related to the craftsmanship and performing arts of traditional musical instruments and to promote cultural diversity among multi- ethnic groups in Myanmar. To raise awareness of the Myanmar public on the importance of ICH. To expand networking and information sharing between Myanmar and Korea.

ICH Courier is the quarterly magazine on ICH in the Asia-Pacific region issued by ICHCAP since 2009. Every issue has its own theme under the title of the Windows to ICH, and the theme of the Vol 18 is 'TRADITIONAL FERMENTED FOOD'.

Oral tradition consists of diverse narratives. It is passed on by word of mouth as everyday wisdom and transmitted through the generations. After that, it becomes infused in a region’s history, philosophy, and way of life, thus forming the foundation for a community’s knowledge systems. This volume introduces traditional tales in Sri Lanka, Palau, Kyrgyzstan, and Vietnam.