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.

Zhanakorgan district in Kazakhstan’s Kyzylorda region is a land steeped in history and spiritual heritage. Home to the ancient city of Syganak—once the capital of the Kipchaks and a key hub on the Great Silk Road—this sacred region carries the legacy of great thinkers, warriors, and artists. Among them is Korkyt-ata, the legendary 10th-century poet, philosopher, and creator of the kobyz, whose ideas about life, mortality, and moral integrity continue to shape Kazakh identity.\n\nInspired by Korkyt’s worldview, modern-day master craftsman Pakhriddin Sadykov brings the spirit of Kazakh heritage to life through woodcarving, sculpture, and musical instrument making. Born in Zhanakorgan, Sadykov overcame a difficult start and lack of formal training to become one of the most respected artisans in the Aral Sea region. His works—shaped by a deep reverence for Kazakh symbols such as the shanyrak, kobyz, and hearth—are not only artistic expressions but philosophical reflections on culture, life, and legacy.\n\nIn his bustling workshop, Pakhriddin mentors a new generation of craftsmen, including his own children, passing down traditional knowledge and skills. His approach goes beyond technical mastery—he teaches the soul of Kazakh art. For him, students who honor the craft with dedication are “living,” while those who pursue it only for profit are “dead.”\n\nDespite financial hardships and an unfinished dream of building a national arts center, Sadykov remains hopeful. He envisions a future where traditional Kazakh crafts flourish, not only as cultural treasures but also as sustainable livelihoods. This is a story of resilience, revival, and the timeless value of creativity rooted in heritage.

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.

Craftsmanship of the Mongol Ger is a traditional enterprise involving the labour of a household or group, with men carving the wood and both women and men engaged in painting, sewing and stitching, and felt-making. Wooden frames comprise the crown, roof poles, wall lattices, door, two pillars and furniture produced by separate carpenters specialized for each. Traditional craftsmanship of Mongol ger is indeed reflects the nomadic culture, national identity which stands for the name card of Mongols to the world. Traditional craftsmanship is taught to the younger generations, principally through mentoring by a senior craftsperson. Dismantling and reassembling the Ger are always family operations, with children learning by watching their elders. Cutting and preparing sheep’s wool, making felt, stitching canvas and preparing woodwork are usually communal endeavours. As a traditional dwelling, the Mongol Ger plays an important social and cultural role for nomadic families and its makers are highly respected.\n

This dance is a modern reinterpretation of the traditional Haka dance, performed by the Maori in New Zealand. Haka was a ritual performed by Maori warriors to strengthen their resolve and the solidarity of the group, while displaying their might to the enemy before going into battle.\n\nMaori people are taught the Haka from an early age to build confidence and pride in their identity. Haka is officially taught in many schools in New Zealand as well. Through a long process of adaptation to the times and situations while remaining rooted in tradition, Haka has become a cultural symbol of New Zealand in the present day.\n\nCharacteristics:\n∙Modern reinterpretation of Haka, a traditional Maori dance\n\nPerformed by Atamira Dance Company\nDirected by Moss Patterson\nChoreographed by Moss Patterson

The tradition of doira performance in Uzbekistan is an integral part of the nation’s musical heritage and identity. The doira is a circular frame drum made from a wooden rim covered with leather, often fitted with metal rings or jingles. It produces a wide range of tones and rhythmic effects, serving as both a solo and accompanying instrument.\nIn Uzbek culture, doira is played in various contexts: to accompany classical music genres such as maqom and ashula, at weddings and festive gatherings, and as a key rhythmic foundation in folk dances. Master performers develop a deep understanding of usul (rhythmic cycles), improvisation, and expressive performance techniques.\nBeyond its musical role, the doira represents the artistry, craftsmanship, and communal traditions of Uzbekistan, uniting people in celebration and cultural expression.

Traditional Craftsmanship of the Mongolian Ger and Associated Customs (Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, 2013)\nThe Mongolian ger is composed of wooden frames, canvas, and ropes. The wooden frames comprise the crown, roof poles, wall lattices, door, and two pillars; each wooden element is produced by separate, specialized carpenters. The traditional craftsmanship of the Mongol ger reflects the nomadic culture and national identity of Mongolia.

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

Nghệ An and Hà Tĩnh are two coastal provinces in the north - central part of Viet Nam. This region is known for its mixed terrain including moutain terrain, flat terrain, delta terrain and coast terrain. Its climate is hasrsh especially in summer, thusbarren land. However, the two riversnamely Lam and La contribute to the creation of ancient alluvial soil shelves that are favorable for wet rice cultivation. The region, therefore, has become a residential area for a long time.\nNghệ An and Hà Tĩnh were formerly known as Nghệ Tĩnh that is attached to the land forming a cultural subregion sharing a same local dialect (Nghệ accent), similar customs, beliefs, folklore, etc. Up to now, Nghệ Tĩnh people in villages and communes have created and preserved an abundant source of folk cultural heritage that is diverse and imbued with the identity of the land named “the Lam River - Red Mountain” where Ví and Giặm folk songs are popularly known.\n

In several rural communities of Timor-Leste, Tuku-Osan—meaning “iron striking” or traditional blacksmithing—remains a respected livelihood and cultural craft. Practitioners, often known as tukun-besi (blacksmiths), transform scrap metal into ritual accessories and functional tools using simple, locally made equipment: a small furnace, a bellows typically fashioned from bamboo or wood, hammers, anvils, and chisels.\n\nThis blacksmithing tradition is not just about utility but also ceremony. Items created include decorative arm rings (li’uli’u), ritual knives, and symbolic metal accessories worn during important events like weddings, funerals, and traditional dances. These artifacts often serve as markers of identity, social status, or ancestral ties.\n\nApprenticeship usually begins at home, with young boys observing and gradually assisting their fathers or uncles in forging metal. Mastery takes years and involves not only technical skill but knowledge of the symbolic meanings tied to each object. For instance, some blades or tools are believed to possess protective properties or spiritual significance, especially when used during sacred rituals or by lia-nain (custom custodians).\n\nThe process itself requires intense physical labor and patience. The blacksmith begins by heating pieces of iron until they are malleable, then striking them repeatedly on an anvil to shape them. The rhythmic clanging of hammer against metal is accompanied by puffs of smoke from the wood-fired furnace—an image that recalls generations of artisans practicing the same technique.\n\nWhile modern materials and factory tools have reduced the demand for handmade ironwork, many rural communities continue to commission traditional blacksmiths for ceremonial needs. These craftspeople are regarded as keepers of ancestral knowledge, and their work is vital to ensuring that elements of Timorese identity endure in tangible form.

This is an original dance reconstructed based on traditional dances of Bali. To the Balinese, dance is a form of religious ritual performed according to the Balinese calendar. The traditional dances of Bali are inspired by nature and represent traditions, customs and religious value. The Balinese believe that the movements of traditional dances express the views of nature, while the mudra (hand movements) are related to their daily lives, laws, faith and customs. Traditional Balinese dances can be performed by both male and female dancers, who wear elaborate traditional costumes of bright colors, imprinted with flora and fauna patterns in gold foil, and decorated with accessories adorned by golden leaves and jewelry. The dance moves are very complex and precisely detailed. Dancers are required to possess not just skill, but also inner beauty (taksu), charisma, modesty and restraint, along with special spiritual power to bring the dances to life.\n\nDances performed in the many communities of Bali are typically transmitted through unofficial channels from elders to children in the traditional sekaa groups. The traditional dances of Bali are cultural heritage containing the customs and culture of the Balinese, and an important part of the identity of a community. The three genres of traditional Balinese dances were inscribed to the UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2015.\n\nCharacteristics:\n∙An original dance reconstructed from the three genres of traditional dance in Bali inscribed to the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2015.\n\nPerformed by Dance Company of Jakarta State University\nDirected by Ida Bagus Ketut Sudiasa

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.