Tara-Bandu is one of Timor-Leste’s most enduring systems of customary law—an ancestral method for maintaining harmony between humans, nature, and the spirit world. Practiced across many municipalities, this tradition involves the collective setting of social and environmental rules by the community, enforced not by police or government, but by deep-rooted respect for customary authority and ancestral belief.\n\nThe term “tara-bandu” itself means “to suspend” or “to declare a prohibition.” At its core, it is a communal agreement to protect certain aspects of life—be it sacred forests, clean water sources, agricultural land, or interpersonal relationships. Violating a tara-bandu is believed to bring not just social disapproval, but also spiritual misfortune, such as illness, crop failure, or even death.\n\nThe process of establishing a tara-bandu involves an elaborate ceremonial act led by lia-nain (customary custodians), elders, spiritual leaders, and village chiefs. At the heart of the ritual is the symbolic installation of the prohibition. This may take the form of hanging a tree branch, an animal skull, or even a bound bundle of leaves at the boundary of a protected area. These symbols serve as visible markers that the space or behavior they refer to is off-limits.\n\nEach tara-bandu is tailored to local needs. In some communities, it may prohibit cutting down trees from a specific forest. In others, it may regulate marriage customs, resolve conflicts, or prevent theft and violence. The process is highly participatory: villagers gather in large open-air meetings to discuss the rules, agree on penalties, and publicly reaffirm their commitment to uphold the communal values.\n\nThe ceremony itself often includes the sacrifice of an animal—commonly a pig, goat, or chicken—as an offering to the ancestral spirits. A traditional oath is spoken, and traditional liquor (tua sabu) is sometimes poured on the earth as a gesture of sealing the agreement. These rituals symbolize not only human consensus but a spiritual pact between the living and the unseen world.\n\nBeyond its legal implications, tara-bandu has an environmental and ethical function. It teaches respect for natural resources, encourages collective responsibility, and reinforces peaceful coexistence. It also represents an indigenous system of governance, reminding the Timorese people that long before modern institutions, their ancestors had mechanisms to resolve disputes and protect what mattered most.\n\nIn the years following independence, tara-bandu experienced a significant revival. Communities, NGOs, and government bodies alike have recognized its value—not as a relic of the past, but as a living, adaptable tool for building resilient societies. It is now being integrated into conservation projects, natural resource management plans, and even civic education programs in schools.\n\nStill, its continued vitality depends on intergenerational transmission. Elders must be supported in sharing their knowledge, and younger generations must be empowered to see the relevance of tara-bandu in today’s context. As both law and ritual, tara-bandu is a shining example of how intangible cultural heritage can guide communities in shaping a sustainable, respectful, and united future.

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.

This documentary explores the cultural and spiritual significance of Uma Lulik (Sacred Houses) in Timor-Leste, which serve as powerful symbols of Timorese identity passed down through generations. These sacred houses are often located in high, remote areas—both for protection and to maintain spiritual connection—and are key centers for preserving tangible and intangible cultural heritage, such as sacred water sources, stones, tombs, and rituals.\n\nThe film highlights the distinct architectural features of Uma Lulik, such as the male and female wooden pillars (Ai-rin Mane and Ai-rin Feto), which carry profound cultural meanings. It explains the differences between Uma Lulik and Uma Fukun—supporting clan houses—and Uma To’os, sacred houses used by Timorese communities living in urban areas like Dili.\n\nThrough interviews with cultural custodians like Tiu Eugénio J. Sarmento and Tiu João dos Santos Hohulu, viewers gain insights into construction rituals, traditional ceremonies, and the symbolic meanings embedded in the sacred architecture. These include elaborate community efforts to transport and erect wooden pillars, sacrificial offerings, and spiritual dances that mark the creation of Uma Lulik.\n\nThe video also features the Knua Lulik Hohulu in Fatubessi, a living example of cultural continuity, where traditions are upheld by local leaders through collective roles and ancestral knowledge.\n\nFinally, the documentary emphasizes the efforts of the Government of Timor-Leste, particularly through the Secretary of State for Arts and Culture, to safeguard and promote sacred cultural sites. Through active community engagement and support for traditional practices, these initiatives aim to ensure the intergenerational transmission of cultural memory and identity, while also encouraging cultural tourism.

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.

Intangible cultural heritage (ICH) is transnational in nature. It is necessary to spread the perception that ICH transcends geographical spaces and national borders, creating dynamic relations, connectedness, and continuity, which is why it is a timeless bearer of cultural diversity, the foundation of the heritage of humanity. However, as the modern structure of nation-state determines the boundaries of culture with national borders, forming the concept of “culture within the country”, subsequently led to the perception that the ownership of culture belongs to the state.\n\nThe concept of exclusive ownership of culture is often controversial in the UNESCO listing process, particularly in instances where cultural heritage and cultural domains have been shared for a long time by two or more nation-states. Such conflicts lead to excessive competition for nomination, overshadowing UNESCO’s fundamental purpose of contributing to peace and security in the world by promoting collaboration among nations, as well as the very spirit of the 2003 Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage that promotes international cooperation and assistance in the safeguarding of ICH as a matter of general interest to humanity.\n\nConsequently, UNESCO encourages multinational inscriptions of shared intangible cultural heritage to promote regional cooperation and international safeguarding activities, preventing conflicts among countries and coping with already existing ones. By emphasizing joint nominations of shared ICH, UNESCO revised its implementation guidelines three times to deal with conflicts between countries due to the cultural property rights. In addition, States Parties are encouraged to develop networks among relevant communities, experts, professional centres, and research institutes, particularly with regard to their ICH, to cooperate at the sub-regional and regional levels.\n\nAt the 13th Intergovernmental Committee for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage held in the Republic of Mauritius in November 2018, Traditional Korean Wrestling was inscribed on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity as the first joint designation by the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea and Republic of Korea. This milestone in the life of the Convention demonstrates that ICH contributes to the peace-building, reconciliation, mutual understanding, and solidarity among peoples. Indeed, only when acknowledging that shared cultural values are empowering characteristics of ICH, the true perspective of the unifying agent of the cultural diversity can be achieved, and that it is the cornerstone of reaching peace among nations.\n\nCountries in the Asia Pacific region are deeply connected by a long history of interactions, exchanges, flows of people, goods, and ideas that have shaped shared values, practices, and traditions. Having a balanced view, advocating for cultural diversity, and recognizing the commonalities among individuals, communities, and countries as a strength are virtuous tenets in the present time.\n\nIn this regard, APHEN-ICH Secretariat, ICHCAP, and UNESCO Bangkok Office are inviting the APHEN-ICH member institutes and public to this seminar under the theme of Diversity and Distinctiveness: Looking into the Shared ICH in the Asia-Pacific, to re-assess that while fragile, intangible cultural heritage is an important factor in maintaining cultural diversity, connecting bounds, and enhancing international dialogue and peace.

On 12 and 13 November 2020, ICHCAP and the ICH NGO Forum virtually held the 2020 ICH NGO Conference entitled “ICH and Resilience in Crisis.” The fifteen participants, including eleven selected presenters from ten countries around the world, discussed various cases and activities of each country applied under the Corona-era, and proposed solidarity for the resilience of ICH for a ‘New Normal.’\n\nSession 1: In the Vortex: COVID-19 Era, Roles of NGOs to Safeguard ICH\n\nSpecial Lecture 1: 'Resilience System Analysis' by Roberto Martinez Yllescas, Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) in Mexico\n1. 'Uncovering the veil of immaterial cultural heritage towards and autonomous management of well-being as well as cultural and territorial preservation' by Carolina Bermúdez, Fundación Etnollano\n2. 'Holistic Development Model of Community-Based Intangible Cultural Heritage of Yuen Long District in Hong Kong of China' by Kai-kwong Choi, Life Encouraging Fund \n3. 'Indigenous Knowledge System as a vector in combating COVID-19' by Allington Ndlovu, Amagugu International Heritage Centre\n4. 'Enlivening Dyeing Tradition and ICH: The initiative of ARHI in North East of India' by Dibya Jyoti Borah, President, ARHI\n\nSession 2: Homo Ludens vs. Home Ludens: Changed Features COVID-19 Brought\n\n1. 'The Popular Reaction to COVID-19 from the Intangible Cultural Heritage among Member Cities of the ICCN' by Julio Nacher, ICCN Secretariat, Algemesi, Spain\n2. 'Innovation for Arts and Cultural Education Amid a Pandemic' by Jeff M. Poulin, Creative Generation\n3. 'Promoting Heritage Education through Intangible Cultural Heritage in the Kalasha Valleys of Pakistan' by Ghiasuddin Pir & Meeza Ubaid, THAAP\n4. 'Shifting to Online Activities: Digital Divide among the NGOs and ICH Communities in Korea' by Hanhee Hahm CICS\n\nSession 3: Consilience: Prototype vs. Archetype for Educational Source\n\nSpecial Lecture 2: 'Geographical imbalance: the challenge of getting a more balanced representation of accredited non-governmental organizations under the 2003 Convention' by Matti Hakamäki, Finnish Folk Music Institute\n1. 'Crafting a Post Covid-19 World: Building Greater Resilience in the Crafts Sector through Strengthening Ties with its Community’s Cultural System' by Joseph Lo, World Crafts Council International\n2. 'Arts and Influence: Untangling Corporate Engagement in the Cultural Sector' by Nicholas Pozek, Asian Legal Programs, Columbia University\n3. 'ICH in the South-Western Alps: Empowering Communities through Youth Education on Nature and Cultural Practices' by Alessio Re & Giulia Avanza, Santagata Foundation for the Economy of Culture\n\n

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 28 is 'ICH and Sacred Cultural Spaces.'

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 42 is 'ICH FESTIVALS ON THE SILK ROAD.'

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 17 is 'TRADITIONAL CHILDREN’S GAMES.'

As part of the Cultural Partnership Initiative of 2016, ICHCAP invited ICH professionals from Malaysia, Mongolia, Sri Lanka and Tonga. Each participant researched ICH topics of interest that relate to comparative studies, sustainable development, traditional medicine, and safeguarding organizations. These reports were compiled into a bound publication and is now made available as an online download.