Khovd Province, located in western Mongolia, is a vibrant tapestry of majestic landscapes, diverse ethnic communities, and deep-rooted cultural traditions. Home to more than ten ethnic groups—including the Kazakhs, Torguud, Durvud, Zakhchin, Uriankhai, and Myangad—Khovd is a cradle of intangible cultural heritage passed down for generations.\n\nSurrounded by sacred snow-capped peaks and vast river valleys, Khovd is rich in biodiversity, with over 1,300 plant species and hundreds of rare and endangered animals, including snow leopards and Altai argali. Its historical landscape is just as abundant, featuring ancient rock carvings, deer stones, and the renowned Gurvan Tsenkher Cave with 40,000-year-old petroglyphs.\n\nThe province is a living museum of nomadic knowledge and craftsmanship. Locals uphold centuries-old traditions of herding, long-distance camel caravans, and skilled artisanal work—everything from intricate ethnic costumes and woodcraft to leather and felt production. Unique musical and dance traditions, such as bielgee (expressive dance), Tsuur flute playing, and the haunting throat singing khoomii, echo across the region, preserving the voices of the past.\n\nAnnual festivals celebrate horse racing, wrestling, and the famed Kazakh Eagle Festival, showcasing the enduring bond between eagle hunters and their majestic birds. Epic poetry, the melodies of the horsehead fiddle, and region-specific tea customs further enrich Khovd’s living cultural heritage.\n\nThis documentary journeys through the soul of Khovd Province—where every mountain, melody, and movement tells a story. It’s a place where Mongolia’s ancestral spirit is not only remembered but proudly lived every day.

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.

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 Spirit of the Steppe: Mongolian Horse Culture” takes viewers on a powerful journey into the heart of Mongolia’s nomadic heritage—where horses are more than animals; they are partners in survival, symbols of strength, and spiritual companions.\n\nFor centuries, Mongolians have relied on horses for hunting, warfare, migration, transport, food, and drink. From galloping across the steppe to brewing healing mare’s milk (airag), horses are central to every aspect of nomadic life. Their unmatched endurance, compact build, and gentle temperament make Mongolian horses ideal for long rides, harsh climates, and riders of all ages.\n\nThis documentary explores how foals are trained from a young age, classified into herding, racing, catching, or event horses, and how they are selected for leadership based on traits like stamina, courage, and gait. Viewers will also discover Mongolia’s diverse horse breeds—like Galshar, Tesin Gol, and Darkhad—each adapted to different terrains, from desert to mountains.\n\nWith deep respect, herders care for their horses using centuries-old techniques such as acupuncture, moxibustion, and mindful riding practices. Tools like saddles, bridles, hobbles, and brushes are passed down through generations, and always stored in the honored western side of the ger.\n\nThe film also highlights horse-related rituals and songs, sung when milking mares, calming foals, or praising racehorses. These traditions, rich in emotion and wisdom, echo the unique bond between herder and horse—a bond built on trust, respect, and shared purpose.\n\nMongolian horses are not only fast and hardy—they’re loyal, intuitive, and capable of navigating home across vast distances. With each gallop, they carry the legacy of the steppe.