When Tradition Meets Modernity

Have you ever missed a place you can’t quite return to?

   A place not just made of streets and houses—but of laughter, shared meals, and voices telling stories long into the night?

   Once upon a time, life in the village meant waking up to your grandma’s cooking, hearing chickens cluck in the morning sun, and gathering under the stars to hear your grandfather’s tales. Traditions weren’t taught—they were lived, breathed, and passed on naturally.

   Fast forward to today: the scent of coffee replaces home-cooked meals, the city’s blaring horns drown out old lullabies, and family gatherings are swapped for rushed texts and missed calls.

   This is the story unfolding across Southeast Asia—and the world.

   As we chase dreams in bright city lights, something quieter and deeper is fading: our stories, our traditions, our very roots.

   But is this loss inevitable? Or can we find new ways to carry home with us, wherever we go?

Lost in the City: How Migration is Changing Family and Culture

This is the reality for many families today. As younger generations move to cities for better jobs and education, the traditional family structure is shifting, and priceless cultural traditions are slowly fading.

Historically, villages were like one big extended family—grandparents, parents, and children all living together or just a few steps away. Stories, wisdom, and traditions were passed down effortlessly. But now?

Young people are moving out, elders are left behind, and the connection between generations is weakening.

Without daily interactions, who will teach the next generation about traditional healing rituals, folklore, or even how to cook that secret family recipe?

"We used to sit with our grandparents at night, listening to old tales. Now, everyone is on their phones." – A Bajau youth from Sabah.

Imagine a world where no one remembers their ancestors’ stories. That’s what we risk losing.

Social Displacement and Changing Social Structures

Many rural families are seeing their members move to cities, leading to a shift in traditional family structures. The loss of elders in the community can erode the transmission of oral histories, traditional skills, and rituals that are vital parts of kampung culture.

As Southeast Asia undergoes urbanisation, the serenity of kampung culture has been subordinated by the fast-paced hum of metropolises. Observing a trend of rural-to-urban migration are families living on the geographical fringe, who are packing up for the city in hopes that it might accommodate dreams too big for the rural communities. With this migration comes a reshaping of traditional family structures, emblematic of a profound transformation in the regional cultural landscape.

One of the last kampungs in Singapore

For generations, rural communities in Southeast Asia have been anchored by extended family systems. In places like central Vietnam, extended families traditionally live in close quarters, with grandparents playing a central role in child-rearing and the transmission of values.

Similarly, in rural Indonesia, the gotong royong spirit—community cooperation—is fostered within tight family networks that span generations. Within close-knit kampung environments, the family unit was far from limited to the nuclear model. Be it grandparents, aunts or even neighbours, everyone lived in close proximity, presenting a multitude of opportunities for strong familial ties to be fostered daily. Through celebration and adversity, the kampung spirit was what held true to the core of the community.

However, in the present day, modern economic demands and the growing accessibility of jobs in urban areas have caused younger generations to flock to cities, in search of better livelihoods. In Vietnam, rural provinces like Ha Tinh and Quang Nam have been major sources of internal migration. Family altars in ancestral homes are often left untended as sons and daughters pursue better wages in Ho Chi Minh City or Hanoi. Consequently, rural communities are left with a dwindling population of elders, with no one to pass their history and heritage on to.

From traditional agricultural techniques to local medicinal knowledge and spiritual practices of the region, the custodians of oral history and traditional skills witness the erosion of cultural heritage. Skills such as traditional batik-making in Indonesia, the art of silat (Malay martial arts), or oral epics like the Hinilawod in the Philippines are increasingly lost without apprentices to inherit them. With fewer young people staying to listen and learn, the kampung way of life struggles to find continuity.

The Hinilawod, the Epic from Panay

Silat, recognised by UNESCO as Malaysian cultural heritage

However, social displacement and evolving family structures is not a story of pure loss. Despite the redefinition of family roles in alignment with modern city life, the migration of rural youth into urban spaces has allowed for new forms of cultural preservation through modern innovation.

Some young people, driven by a desire to reconnect, have returned to their roots to document, archive and revive traditional practices. In Cambodia, non-governmental organisations (NGOs) are working with rural artisans to bring traditional crafts to global markets, helping communities maintain economic relevance while preserving identity. On the other hand, young creatives in Yangon are using social media to document and revive traditional Chin textiles and Karen songs.

Fostering Pride in the Art of Chin Textile Weaving, The Irrawaddy

While cultural dilution is a concern in the growing movement from rural regions to urban areas, the legacies of past generations persist in our collective memory, shaping homes for generations to come. Through storytelling, education and reinvention, the values and wisdom of Southeast Asia’s rural landscapes continue to play a critical role in the transmission of heritage and identity. In this way, migration is no longer synonymous with disconnection – it transforms into a bridge between the past and the future.

Changes in Economic Activities and Livelihoods of Southeast Asia (SEA)

As globalization redefines the rules of engagement in every country, Southeast Asia finds itself swept up in a quiet revolution. From the age-old rhythms of rice farming and tapestry weaving to the sleek, data-driven movement of automated cars delivering e-commerce goods, economic lives are being rewritten. Modernity, digital connectivity, and new trade dynamics are reshaping livelihoods—opening doors to innovation, but also closing chapters on tradition.

1. Economic activities in SEA

As time goes by, our economy has gradually shifted its primary focus to a much larger, wider network: inter-regional trade. In 2021, ASEAN leaders' summit focused on enhancing ASEAN’s economic competitiveness as a region, and narrowing the development gap within and among the 10 member markets.

So as our markets grow and encompass a larger consumer base, the changes in trade ripple into every corner of daily life—from job opportunities to cultural identity. We begin to wonder: in the race to modernize, what parts of ourselves are we leaving behind?

2. Changes in the job market

Most of us would have heard of shopping platforms such as Shopee (Singapore) or Bukalapak (Indonesia). These aren’t just domestic — they operate regionally, even globally. SEA trade was mostly geared toward major global markets, modestly keeping under the radar of multinational companies (MNCs). But now, Intra-ASEAN and Intra-Asia trade is growing; ASEAN is trading more with itself, and with other Asian countries like India, South Korea, and Japan.

Countries like Vietnam, Thailand, and Indonesia were once primarily hubs for low-cost manufacturing—textiles, electronics, automotive. Foreign investors flocked in, drawn by cheap and abundant labor. But now, the tides are turning. These same countries are investing in services and tech-based roles: software development, digital marketing, fintech, and analytics. Vietnam and the Philippines are even emerging as alternatives to India in the outsourcing game.

3. Livelihoods of the people

Our ASEAN countries are becoming less dependent on foreign markets, and more driven by domestic and regional consumption. These shifts aren’t just numbers in reports—they play out in the lives of real people.

A young graduate in Manila might now freelance for clients overseas from a co-working space, while a traditional food vendor in Bangkok gets orders through a mobile app. Cities like Jakarta, Ho Chi Minh City, and Kuala Lumpur are becoming economic powerhouses—buzzing with opportunity, but also racing to keep up.

Source: Maksyam Kozlenko

Changes in the Southeast Asia market significantly impact people's lives through increased economic opportunities, advancements in technology and infrastructure, and evolving social and cultural landscapes. These changes allow better access to affordable goods and services, improved educational and healthcare systems, and new ways of interacting with each other and the world.

ASEAN's increasing integration into global supply chains also means that more goods and services from the region are being exported to other markets, increasing global access to Southeast Asian products.

4. How our traditions and cultures are impacted

The main point? Evolved social norms and behaviours. Family structures, work ethics, all come crashing down at the hands of technology and MNCs. Take for example, commercial agriculture. Farmers who once worked manually in rice paddies are now using drones and agrotechnology to monitor crops .Exposure to Western business practices through foreign investment is reshaping values—but not without resistance. Some traditions adapt, some fade, and others find new ways to thrive in the digital age.

The adoption of digital technologies and automation in businesses is changing the traditional roles and responsibilities of workers, leading to a demand for new skills and potentially displacing workers in traditional industries.

5. Conclusion

Change is inevitable. Slowly but surely, as we adapt, Southeast Asian countries start to make a stand for themselves on the world’s stage. But while we enjoy the benefits of urbanization, we must never forget the roots that shaped our journey, and the people who built the foundation of our growing empire.

Erosion of Traditions & Cultures

The languages and traditional skills inherited form our ancestors and gradually disappearing due to urbanisation and the development of cutting-edge technology.

1. Philippines - Mabal Tabih Weaving

Looking at Philippines, Mabal Tabih weaving, an endangered craft that utilise abaca fibres. Tabih is the term for the finished hand woven cloth and it also refers to the traditional Blaan tubular skirt. The Blaan weaver don't use a spinning wheel like other traditional spinners. From cutting down the abaca plant, stripping and drying the fibre, followed by dyeing, looming and finally weaving. A single piece of cloth usually takes up a few months to finish.

Yabing Masalan Dulo, also known as Fu Yabing, was one of the last two masters of this art in Philippines until her death in 2021.

Mabal Tabih. The weaving of traditional Blaan ikat fabric made from abaca called "tabih".

As modern clothing becomes cheaper and easier to access, traditional weaving seems to fall into disuse. Moreover, younger generations are choosing quicker ways to make a living since weaving requires patience and a lot of time.

2. Malaysia - Jakun language

The Jakun language is classified as vulnerable and is at risk of vanishing. Jakun is one of the indigenous languages spoken by the Orang Asli people in Peninsular Malaysia, which is part of the Austronesian language family.

Today, most of the indigenous people of Jakun community are provided formal education. Younger Jakun speakers often grow up in urban or semi-urban settings where Bahasa Malaysia(Malay) or English is predominantly spoken, and they may not learn Jakun from their elders or speak it in daily interactions.

Furthermore, Jakun language has several dialects, influenced by the geographical areas where different Jakun communities live. Some dialects are even less widely understood, which contributes to the language's endangerment.

Jakun people primarily reside in the central and southern regions of the Malay Peninsula, including areas in Pahang, Johor, and Melaka.

3. Thailand - Rua Hua Tong

Rua Hua Tong are traditional fishing boats native to the Southern region of the Andaman sea and are closely associated with the Urak Lawoiʼ people. Whilst in recent years they have been associated with the tourism industry due to their iconic nature, a growing concern over the craft not being passed down has led to the Rua Hua Tong being under threat of cultural erosion.

Seen as a symbol of the Urak Lawoi’ identity, the fact that fewer than 10 people know how to build the boat has resulted in concerns over the loss of the traditional identity of the demographic as the nation becomes more modernised and the youth focus more upon modernised jobs and disregard traditional practices.

4. Indonesia - Yoke Language

Considered as one of the most diverse countries in the world, Indonesia’s evident language attrition has become a growing concern due to how only 13 of over 700 languages in the nation are said to be stable. An example of an endangered language within the nation is the Yoke Language, which had approximately 200 speakers at its latest recorded date in 1998.

Also known as Yoki, Yauke and Bitovondo, the language is used by adults and was often a first language of Yoke village natives. Nevertheless, with the rising amount of globalisation present, it has led to members of the younger generations not being exposed to the language as the nation’s lingua franca – Bahasa Indonesia – has become the standardised language taught in schools and used across the nation.

With resources, institutional support and global knowledge of the indigenous language remaining limited, minimal progress for the preservation of the language has been seen.

Vanishing Voices: Preserving the Oral Traditions of Southeast Asia

Once upon a time, before screens lit up our nights, Southeast Asia pulsed with stories. In villages, tales flowed from lips to ears around bonfires, in whispered lullabies and thunderous chants. They were legends of warriors, songs of love, cries of protest, and prayers for rain.

But today, those voices are fading — not because the stories lost their magic, but because we stopped listening.

Garuda; KrishnaKrishna mounting Garuda, with Satyabhama, opaque watercolour, gold, and silver on paper, from Bundi, Rajasthan state, India, c. 1730; in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

Oral Traditions: The Soul of a Region

**1. The Pasyon (Philippines)**

In the Philippines, The Pasyon isn’t just a religious chant — it is sung aloud during Holy Week in a tradition called pabasa. It tells the story of Christ’s suffering but woven through its verses are powerful Indigenous metaphors: storms, floods, and flashes of heavenly light. These aren’t just symbols of divine struggle — they reflect the chaos, resilience, and spirituality of the Filipino people.

Once, entire villages would gather to chant together, turning faith into community. But today, pabasa sessions are fading away, as the younger generations move further from this tradition.

To truly understand the beauty and depth of this tradition, here’s a short video that dives deeper into the story behind the Pasyon and why it matters more than ever today:

iLumen: Pasyon

**2. Leti Island (Indonesia)**

In Leti Island, eastern Indonesia, stories don’t just entertain — they establish identity. Elders pass down oral narratives in precise “chunks,” each one anchoring a family to their land, lineage, and community. These tales are more than memory; they’re proof — of who you are, where you belong, and why that matters.

Every phrase, every repetition, every poetic cue carries legal and social weight. Forgetting isn’t just a loss of culture — it’s a loss of connection.

3. Pantun & Parikan (Indonesia & Malaysia)

Pantun and parikan once ruled the art of wordplay in Indonesia and Malaysia — poetic, rhythmic, and loaded with charm or sarcasm. Pantun spun elegance into flirtation at weddings and gatherings, while parikan, East Java’s fiery cousin, hit like a roast battle with rhymes.

These verses weren’t just entertainment — they were cultural currency. But today, the rhythm’s slipping away as fewer youths pick up the lines.

4. Panji Tales (Java and beyond)

Long before cinematic universes, Southeast Asia had the Panji cycle — epic tales of a Javanese prince’s adventures and lost love. These stories traveled across the region, with local versions appearing in Thailand, Cambodia, and beyond. Once brought to life through shadow puppets, chants, and dance dramas, Panji was proof of a shared cultural heartbeat across ASEAN.

Raden Panji Inu Kertapati searching for his lost wife, Dewi Sekartaji

Today, though, full performances are rare — often limited to tourist shows, with the deeper meaning fading from memory.

5. Stories Told Through Sound

In places like Bali, Java, and Luzon, music wasn’t just background — it was the story. Gongs, bamboo flutes, and xylophones set the tone for myths, rituals, and communal memory. Each note carried meaning, echoing the soul of the community.

Gamelan, Bali, Indonesia

But today, many of these instruments have been re-tuned for Western ears or commercialized for tourist stages — losing the sacred layers they once held. Still, institutions like the Institut Seni Indonesia are fighting to keep the music — and the stories — alive.

Final words…

Migration may pull us away from the villages we once called home, but it doesn't have to erase the spirit they gave us.

Yes, the chickens outside have been replaced by alarms and skyscrapers. Yes, the old family kitchen is now a tiny apartment kitchenette. But every story, every tradition, every piece of wisdom still lives on inside us—if we choose to carry them forward.

Today, we have tools our ancestors never dreamed of: phones that can record folktales, social media that can share forgotten dances, and a world more connected than ever before. Tradition and modernity aren’t enemies. They're two hands that can work together to build a future that honors where we came from and where we’re going.

In the end, it’s not about choosing between old and new.

It’s about weaving both together—like threads in the same fabric—so that no matter where we end up, home is never too far behind.

Cultural Fusion: When Tradition Meets Modernity

There can be no doubt that globalisation has had a dynamic impact on the history of Southeast Asia. It is necessary to acknowledge that global influences have become a pillar for economic advancement and development in numerous SEA countries. Nevertheless, its impact is multifaceted and twofold.

It is in times like today that we must grip onto our cultural roots the tightest. Every passing second in today’s globalised world is a battlefield for Western influences to seize the preservation of Southeast Asian culture, leaving years of ancestral customs and traditions vulnerable to being quietly effaced from history.

This issue sparks a question for the future of Southeast Asia: Can modernity be embraced without the expense of traditional identity? Many creatives have spent time tinkering on the concept of cultural fusion, where modern identity blends with heritage without the expense of the other.

1.ANTHILL Fabric Gallery

Anthill is a Filipino social enterprise with its mission to preserve handloom weaving culture and support sustainable livelihood through partner craft artisans around the Philippines.

This brand works on reviving indigenous weaves like the Binakol and Inabel patterns through creating unique, modern, and wearable clothing collections that are available for purchase.

They partner with various artisans in rural, indigenous, and urban communities to modernise woven fabrics and colours by creating a wide variety of articles such as dresses, shirts, scarves and accessories.

This collaboration is emphasised in their Community Enterprise Development Programme that provides training and impact monitoring, ensuring local stakeholders receive support in growing their business.

Lastly, they actively share the stories of their weavers on platforms such as their Instagram and website, further showcasing their commitment in their motto to “Know who made your weaves, how they are made of, to wear with intention and honour the connection”.

Panyo Kapa Short, made of heartwoven fabric from the Mang Abel Ti Abra community in Bangued, Abra.

Daraghuyan Bukidnon Tribe, Daraghuyan means “people of the mountain,” derived from one of the mountains that comprise the Kitanglad Range where the tribe resides.The community performs a Thanksgiving ritual before and after the weaving as part of its process.

2. Modern retelling of Indonesian Folklore: KKN Desa Penari

This infamous horror and mystery Indonesian film originated in a Twitter thread back in 2019, where user @SimpleM81378523 tweeted his supernatural experience when doing a mandatory Student Study Service, or otherwise referred to as Kuliah Kerja Nyata (KKN).

This tweet later went viral and gained the attention of hundreds of thousands of Indonesian netizens.

What was once a tweet was to be adapted into a film in 2022, where director Awi Suryadi created one of Indonesia’s most highly grossing films with over 10 million viewers. This film reimagined ancient Javanese mysticism, highlighting ancient folklores and tales about forest spirits and ritual dancers on the big screen to be immersed by global citizens.

One prominent cultural component is the traditional dances referenced in the film, such as the traditional “Tari gandrung” with “Ngiwir” movement and accompanied by alluring Javanese Gamelan Music.

This popularised traditional Indonesian performing arts into the mainstream media and has since inspired many other filmmakers to continue incorporating Indonesia’s rich cultural identity into the film industry.