'There's such a rich tradition of dance, music and craft among the different ethnic communities of Sabah. But unless they're helped to preserve their heritage, they won't last long,' says Judeth Baptist, an assistant curator at the Sabah Museum who is heading the project.

Sabah is home to about 24 indigenous groups that make up about half the population. Each has its own distinct culture. But tribal lifestyles are giving way to relentless development. As resettlement schemes shifted indigenous groups from their customary long-houses, a number of rituals and dance were lost. Yet others were abandoned as organised religions made inroads in the formerly animist communities, says 45-year-old Baptist, who has regularly ventured into the thickly forested interior to document rituals and traditional celebrations.

She hopes that, by working with the children in Semporna, there's a chance the Bajau culture won't be completely swallowed by progress.

After the Kadazan-Dusun, the Bajau and Bajau Laut form the second-largest indigenous group in Sabah. The latter, often referred to as sea gypsies, were one of the major maritime communities of Southeast Asia. Living on boats, they roamed between the islands of the southern Philippines, eastern Borneo and the Indonesian island of Sulawesi. Although most have abandoned the seafaring lifestyle, a few still live as their ancestors did, on handmade boats, hopping from island to island. Today, the remaining sea nomads are based off Omadal Island, near Semporna.

Dance is a pivotal part of their culture and is often used in healing rituals and celebrations such as weddings. Unaccompanied by song or chants, they describe the myths and legends of the people through movement.

The tarirai, for instance, tells the story of seafarers who encounter a strange animal while on a voyage to search for seashells. Performed to the beat of the dancers' wooden castanets and a percussion ensemble of horizontally laid out gongs, the steps depict the actions sailors take to evade the beast. But as mesmerising as it is, the tarirai is in danger of extinction.

Few still perform the dance, mainly members of Sulga's troupe. Set up in 1998, the group presents the tarirai at major events such as the annual regatta in Semporna to celebrate the Bajau Laut's seafaring tradition. Other dance groups are also helping to keep tribal cultures and dance alive.

Their efforts to preserve indigenous culture are an uphill struggle, laments Sulga.

In the past, the Bajau were exposed to traditional dance and music as toddlers; Sulga learned the dances as a young girl. Today, Bollywood music and Indonesian pop are all the rage with youngsters, the sounds reverberating from almost every wooden house.

Elders such as Sulga are saddened by Bajau youngsters' craze for commercial music. Her grandchildren prefer the pop tunes of Indonesian singer Kris Dayanti to tribal percussion music, she says.

The erosion of their culture is hastened by the migration of young people to larger cities in search of better opportunities.

Baptist suggests one way to sustain ethnic music and dance is to find platforms outside their own communities. Her Kota Kinabalu-based troupe, for example, has performed in Kuala Lumpur and toured South Korea, Indonesia and Cambodia. The group is also scheduled to appear at a major festival in Turkey next month.

Tourism could give an added boost, she says. As a jump-off point to the diving haven of Sipadan island, Semporna could be a window to Bajau culture. Local authorities might collaborate with restaurants and hotels to stage regular performances for local and foreign visitors, Baptist says.

But the odds are against efforts such as hers when older Bajau often aren't keen to pass on traditional culture to the younger generation. 'The elders don't see any economic value in learning traditional dance, and prefer their children to focus on education or being computer literate,' says Baptist. 'Dancing's the last thing on their minds.'