Filipino embalmers – last caretakers of the dead, seldom cared for

PART 1 | Inside the world of Filipino embalmersLast of 2 parts When Jonnel Cribello received his license to embalm in 2009, one question followed him everywhere. “The most frequent question people asked me [was] whether I washed my hands before shaking theirs,” he said. A registered nurse who once dreamed of becoming a surgeon, Cribello turned to embalming after coming across a media feature on an embalming school. “If I wanted to work with the human body, the easiest route for me then was to work in the mortuary industry,” he said. Today, he helps teach the next generation of embalmers as an accredited trainer and program director at the Philippine College of Advanced Studies (PCAS) in Cebu, one of only four active accredited embalming schools in the country and the only one outside Luzon. Embalmers disinfect, preserve, and restore a body so families can hold a wake — often for days — before burial or cremation. But while the industry has made strides in shedding its perception as dirty work, the systems around it — licensing, data, and pay — have been slower to catch up with other medical-adjacent fields. Changing image For years, embalmers were seen as untidy and uneducated, said James Patrick Ovejera, president of the Professional Embalmers Association of the Philippines Inc. (PEAP). “There was an idea that it’s dirty work, the person is untidy, the person is illiterate, and the person is technically a low-class person,” he said. “There were even depictions in the movies wherein it’s a person that works in a dark place… a hunchback.” That image began to shift around 2010, when the Department of Health (DOH) set out to professionalize the field, Ovejera said. The rules governing embalming date back to 1975, when then-president Ferdinand E. Marcos issued Presidential Decree No. 856, or the Code on Sanitation of the Philippines. Its chapter XXI, on the disposal of dead persons, covers everything from burial grounds to funeral and embalming establishments. Detailed rules for embalmers came only in 1996, more than two decades later. They called for the DOH to create a Committee of Examiners for Undertakers and Embalmers (DOH-CEUE), which licenses embalmers and accredits training schools. In 2010, the DOH reinstated the committee with new members, who worked with the University of the Philippines to streamline the curriculum and licensure exam, under Administrative Order No. 2010-0033. The order also, for the first time, mandated minimum wage for all embalmers. The committee and the five training schools at the time then went region by region to explain the rules to local officials. Feedback led to new measures, including a refresher program for embalmers with long-expired licenses and a Filipino version of the exam, which was previously in English. “There are a lot of people [who] are very skilled coming from the provinces…but they couldn’t really understand English well,” said Ovejera. At the time, he had been teaching at the Philippine Embalmers and Undertakers Review and Training Center (PEURTC), and enlisted in the roadshow efforts. In 2018, embalmers like Ovejera formed PEAP as their own professional counterpart to the Philippine Mortuary Association, which represents funeral homeowners. “At the time, there was no collective body representing us, and we wanted to do something about that,” he said. In the classroom LEARNING. Embalming students at PCAS watch an instructor lead a demonstration on a cadaver. Photo courtesy of PCAS Under current DOH rules, aspiring embalmers need a high school diploma, at least 140 hours of instruction from an accredited institution, and proof that they have embalmed at least 10 cadavers within a year. They then take a licensure exam held twice a year, every March and September. Under rules revised in 2021, licenses are issued by the DOH’s Health Facilities and Services Regulatory Bureau (HFSRB) after applicants pass the committee’s exam. These are valid for three years and can be revoked if not renewed within five. Students spend about two months in class and a month embalming real cadavers at partner funeral homes. Tuition ranges from about P27,000 to about P30,000 depending on the training institution. Over half of Cribello’s students at PCAS have worked in funeral homes or come from families that own one. His oldest student was 75; the average age is around 45. “It’s such a unique challenge because people [are] going back to school after years of not having a good habit of reading or studying,” he said. PCAS now runs two cohorts a year of about 60 students each, up from 10 per cohort in 2009. At PEURTC in Manila, where Ovejera still teaches, local classes run 40 to 60 students, plus a separate class of five to eight from neighboring Southeast Asian countries like Singapore, Thailand, and Malaysia who come to the Philippines for mortuary education. Affordability and English as a medium of instruction are the main attractions. Tools of the trade EMBALMING. Tools and chemicals found in an embalming preparation room at Arlington Memorial Chapels in Quezon City, Manila. Jake Gomez/Rappler Philippine embalmers train on only a handful of tools and chemicals. In the US, Cribello estimated, training incorporates 30 to 35 pieces of equipment. “There are very simple kinds and sets of tools that have been used in the past and continue to be taught today here. That much has not changed,” he said. Most local funeral homes rely on formalin, a cheap formaldehyde solution. Other chemicals used abroad, in what is called soft embalming, can make a face look more natural. But culture and climate shape the practice, Ovejera said. Filipino wakes routinely run around the clock for days, sometimes weeks, and softer chemicals do not hold up in humid weather. Cost matters too. A 200-liter drum of formalin costs around P11,000 to P15,000, while soft-embalming chemicals can cost 20 times more, according to Ovejera. For that reason, only select funeral homes offer more technical and upscale embalming options. An industry behind Demand for an embalmer’s work is guaranteed. Fair pay, Cribello said, is not. “There is a certain opportunity to review the industry regulations in terms of the kind of salaries imposed within the industry,” Cribello said. “I personally feel that we are behind [compared with] similar professionals like nurses and doctors.” Entry-level salaries still hover around minimum wage (P401 to P755 per day, depending on the region), according to PCAS and PEAP, and embalmers get no hazard pay despite chronic exposure to chemicals like formaldehyde, which the International Agency for Research on Cancer classifies as a Group 1 carcinogen. The 2010 rules set minimum wage as the entry point, Ovejera said, but smaller funeral homes often pay per body instead, pushing many embalmers to freelance and work between funerary businesses. Change in any regard would require legislation. “I agree that there must be changes. But how do we do that? It has to be in legislation,” Ovejera said. Embalmers also have no seat on the body that licenses them. Under the current rules, the DOH-CEUE’s five members are a chairperson, vice chairperson, sanitary engineer, pathologist, and legal officer. No mention of an embalmer sitting on the committee of examiners. Licensed embalmers take part only as assessors for the oral and practical exam. By contrast, the board that licenses nurses is made up of nurses. Counting embalmers The number of active, licensed embalmers in the country is hard to pin down. The DOH-CEUE has not formally published updated figures in recent years, according to PCAS. The embalmers association recorded about 5,000 licensed embalmers in 2018, though that count includes those who have died, moved abroad, or let their licenses lapse. Exams were suspended in 2020 and 2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic. Since resumption, each exam has licensed roughly 100 people, bringing the total to between 6,000 and 6,300, according to the embalmers association. PCAS estimates 200 to 300 new embalmers a year. In March 2026, 75 aspirants earned their licenses. After the September 2026 written exam, 125 moved on to the oral and practical portion. Better data would help as Singapore, Malaysia, and employers in the Middle East, Europe, and North America look to hire Filipino embalmers, Ovejera said. “Without knowing the actual figures…we don’t even know: do we have enough [at home]?” Ovejera said. The counts also miss a group that’s harder to track: people who embalm without a license, which DOH rules prohibit. Several embalmers we spoke with said the practice persists, particularly in provinces where training is inaccessible. Room to grow Both men remain hopeful that the industry will continue to catch up. For Cribello, the work remains “the ultimate noble cause.” In his classes, he pushes the fundamentals of hygiene and care for grieving families, along with sounder business practices for a new generation of operators. “While it’s [grim] and tiring, it gives fulfillment that I can have a platform where I can influence not just one student, but operators and embalmers all throughout the country,” he said. For Ovejera, it became all the more personal in 2023, when his father died. “I wanted to make sure that we do the best for him,” he said. He helped embalm his father himself. That experience, he said, further strengthened the importance of the work to grieving families. “The picture of an individual lying there inside the casket…will always be in the cognitive footprint of the family members,” he said. PEAP has also explored ladderized programs through the introduction of embalming into more Filipino universities, Ovejera said. For now, it remains a short certificate course rather than a degree. “There’s a lot more work to do… We want to be more globally competitive,” he said. – Rappler.com *Jake Gomez is a 2026-2027 Henry Luce scholar.