Unearthing Tradition: The Mexican Town That Cleanses the Bones of Its Ancestors for Day of the Dead

In a profound display of familial devotion, Maria Luisa Euan watched her second husband, Jorge Jurado, meticulously tend to the skeletal remains of her first. With a gentle hand and a soft white cloth, Mr. Jurado, 66, carefully wiped a femur, dusted vertebrae, and polished each individual tooth of his wife’s departed spouse. “It’s an act of pure love and affection,” he remarked, as he carefully brushed dirt from what appeared to be a finger. “Her happiness becomes my own.”

Ms. Euan, 69, echoed his sentiment, recalling how they had performed the same tender ritual for Mr. Jurado’s first wife just days prior. “At our age, jealousy holds no sway,” she said. “And for those who have found their eternal rest, even less so.”

Here in Pomuch, a vibrant town of 10,000 nestled on Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula, the exhumation of loved ones is far from a somber affair; it is a profound expression of enduring love and respect.

This ancient tradition, however, is now attracting an increasing number of tourists, presenting a unique challenge and opportunity for local officials. Pomuch remains one of the last bastions in Mexico where the ceremonial cleaning of ancestral bones is a living, cherished practice.

Each year, in the weeks leading up to Mexico’s renowned Day of the Dead celebration, residents flock to the local cemetery. They carefully retrieve boxes containing the disassembled skeletons of their loved ones, embarking on a ritualistic dusting and cleaning intended to honor and bring peace to the spirits of their ancestors.

Mauro Canul, a 41-year-old Navy officer, was observed tenderly addressing his grandfather’s bones while gently brushing them. “We haven’t forgotten you, and we never will,” he murmured. He recounted dreams where his grandfather appeared, seeking more attention from the living. Now, surrounded by two piles of bones—those of his grandfather and grandmother, each skull still adorned with tufts of matted hair—Mr. Canul reflected, “I may not see them, but I can feel their presence through touch.”

This profound ritual traces its origins back to the Maya civilization, which flourished in the region until the arrival of Spanish colonizers in the 1500s. Scholars suggest that Mayans sometimes exhumed and reordered bones as a sacred act of honoring the departed, part of a broader belief system where ancestors guide and protect their descendants in the afterlife. This ancient worldview forms the bedrock of Mexico’s Day of the Dead festivities, typically marked by altars laden with offerings for the souls of deceased relatives.

Pomuch exemplifies Mexico’s rich blend of Indigenous and Hispanic cultures. A significant portion of its population boasts Mayan heritage and maintains strong Catholic faith. Interestingly, several residents observed cleaning bones this week cited biblical teachings as the foundation for their practice.

Lázaro Hilario Tuz Chi, a local historian and anthropologist from Pomuch, highlighted the town’s deep historical connection with the deceased. Once a vital stop on a Maya route to a sacred burial ground and a renowned producer of burial shrouds, Pomuch’s culture has long revolved around the afterlife. Over the past two decades, this focus has intensified, largely due to the efforts of Mr. Tuz Chi and other community members who have actively promoted the unique bone-cleaning tradition.

As a direct consequence of these efforts, Pomuch has recently emerged as a notable stop on the Day of the Dead tourist trail.

Just last week, tour groups from France and Italy disembarked from vans, congregating outside the modest tortilla shops opposite Pomuch’s cemetery. Couples and families arrived in rented cars, with one Dutch couple admitting they discovered the town through a ChatGPT recommendation. The skies above sometimes buzzed with the presence of tourist drones.

The cemetery itself is a dense labyrinth of narrow paths winding between colorful concrete ossuaries, with skulls often peeking out from the boxes within. The confined spaces mean that as families meticulously arranged the remains of their loved ones, tourists frequently gathered to observe. Some politely requested permission to film, often with the help of a tour guide, while others simply began recording with their phones without asking.

Chiara Ciliberti, 32, an Italian tourist visiting as part of a group trip to Cancún, admitted, “I don’t know if I’d be able to do this with my own relatives.”

This year, local officials attempted to leverage the burgeoning tourist interest. On October 21st, the Pomuch local government announced on social media an opportunity for visitors to observe and even “participate” in the bone-cleaning ritual for a fee of 30 pesos, approximately $1.60 USD.

The community’s response was swift and critical. Residents of Pomuch expressed strong opposition to the idea of commodifying their sacred tradition, and many were confused as to whether they would now be charged simply to enter the cemetery.

Carlos Ucán, a state lawmaker from Pomuch, vehemently criticized the proposal in the legislature, stating, “This ritual is entirely private. It belongs to the family and their deceased. While some may choose to open it up and invite others to witness, even that skirts the delicate boundary between sharing and commercializing.”

The local government eventually retracted its plan. Pomuch’s mayor, Cevas Yam, acknowledged in an interview that his team’s communication was poor but reiterated his desire to find a balance between economic opportunity and cultural preservation. “Sustainable tourism exists,” he noted, “but this is an exceptionally sensitive matter.”

Opinions among locals remain divided.

“I wholeheartedly want this tradition to be known to the world,” declared Mr. Canul, moments before proudly holding up his grandfather’s skull for a group of French tourists to photograph. “We are delighted to have you here.”

However, not all residents shared his comfort with the public gaze. José Fernandez, a local handyman, explained that his business of cleaning boxes of bones for 40 pesos (around $2 USD) was flourishing. He stated that he handles approximately 200 sets of remains annually, with many clients hiring him specifically to avoid performing the intimate ritual under the scrutiny of outsiders.

According to tradition, locals typically exhume their relatives’ corpses three years after burial. Initially, gravediggers might clean any remaining decomposing flesh, after which family members rub the bones with rum or quicklime and allow them to dry in the sun.

In subsequent years, the cleaning primarily involves a gentle brushing of the bones. Locals emphasize that this process is less about actual sanitation and more about fostering an emotional and spiritual connection with the deceased.

Once dusted, the bones are meticulously rewrapped in a fresh, white embroidered cloth and carefully placed back into their box, awaiting the next year’s ritual.

Many residents continue this tradition, having learned it from their grandparents or parents. Last week, several older community members brought their own children or grandchildren to participate, instilling the hope that these younger generations will one day continue the sacred practice for them.

“They will perform this when their time comes, and their children must do the same,” affirmed Dulce Cohuo, 84, as she observed her daughter polishing her husband’s skull. “It is an unbroken chain.”

Indeed, many in Pomuch are embracing the town’s growing recognition. The main road leading to the cemetery is adorned with vibrant murals depicting skulls, and on Friday, the annual Day of the Dead festival drew thousands of visitors.

During the festival, local schoolteachers diligently prepared pibipollo, the traditional Day of the Dead meal of the Yucatán. This large tamale, filled with chicken, wrapped in banana leaves, and cooked underground, has deep Maya roots. Its preparation is seen as symbolic of a body in a grave, and its profound connection to death is such that some locals refrain from the ritual if they have recently lost a loved one.

The schoolteachers expressed their desire to educate outsiders about Pomuch’s cherished traditions. Their hope is that the community can similarly share the bone-cleaning practice with visitors while simultaneously safeguarding its integrity.

When asked about the essence of Pomuch, teacher Eduardo Puc Medina responded, “That intimacy has been somewhat diminished. But my perspective is that our people don’t view this negatively; rather, it’s seen as an opportunity to share the unique spirit of Pomuch.”

His colleague, Marco Mut, further elaborated, “We don’t merely honor our dead; we truly live with them every single day.”