# 49 What's Really for Sale at the Dubious Belen Market in Iquitos?
On traditional medicines from the Amazon, corruption, and moral discomfort—a photo essay
“It’s a dangerous maze,” people said about the Belen market in Iquitos. “Best go with a guide.”
“You can visit,” people said, “but please don’t buy anything illegal.”
“The Belen market is the region’s biggest draw,” people said, “a must-see.”
Daniel and I wondered: Should we go to a market known for its dubious offerings?
I was undeniably curious. I love going to local markets because they’re cultural and social. They reveal a lot about the people I long to meet yet cannot always get close to because of shyness, wariness, or language barriers. What are their daily needs and secret desires?
Tasting local produce is an essential part of immersive traveling. We become participants in the local culture and engage with others when we bite into a rich corn tamale or crispy fried bug. People often enjoy sharing with us what they grow and make. And they’re proud when we show our appreciation.
At least, that’s my experience. But things are different when I frown upon their customs in advance and have no intention to buy their anaconda skins or monkey head. People must find it highly uncomfortable if I observe them as though they’re exotic objects and inwardly judge their behavior.
So what am I really buying with my interest if I go to a local market I call dubious?
A Visit to the Belen Market
The Mercado Belén in Iquitos is not made for tourists. It’s an authentic market frequented by locals looking for fresh river fish and traditional medicines from the Amazon.
Many people living in this city (with a population of half a million) grew up in the rain forest and prefer to treat their ailments with snake oil and herbal concoctions instead of prescription pills. They eat turtle eggs to boost virility and sex appeal. They put their trust in amulets made of protected animal parts to ward off the evil eye. And they invest in ayahuasca vines so they can fly high above the Amazon jungle.
(Read Tahir Shah’s Trail of Feathers for more about the Bird Men of Peru.)
One day, Daniel and I met our guide Marlon early in the morning at the reception of our excellent hotel in Iquitos. Despite my doubts, I let my curiosity get the upper hand. I wanted to witness and report.
The sun was already hot and we took a loud motorcarro, a three-wheeled vehicle known elsewhere in the world as a tuck tuck.
The Mercado Belén was chaotic, in full swing, and we pushed through the crowds.
“What’s she making?” I asked Marlon when spotting a woman mixing what looked like pancake batter. She served it to people in a glass.
“It’s an energy drink with raw jungle eggs,” he said. “Do you want to try it?”
“No thanks,” I said this time.
But later, when he suggested I try a skewer of grilled bugs, my curiosity won again and I bit into some tasty (yet greasy) suri.
In the meat section, there were heaps of red cecina (cured dried pork), jungle rat, and Amazonian wild bore.
Marlon identified all the fish for us while we instantly forgot their local names.
“Paiche is the biggest fish in the Amazon river,” he said as he pointed at large filets for sale. “But it’s no longer legal to fish them.”
“Then how come they’re on every tourist menu?” I asked.
“Corruption,” he said. “We locals prefer catfish. There’re still plenty of those.”
The same corruption was responsible for all the other illegal items at the market. He didn’t tell us that fishing for alligator was banned, too, until after we bought a piece of grilled tail for our lunch. I instantly felt bad.
We had made a snap decision. Too often our hesitance causes us to miss out on opportunities, and because I didn't want to come home from the market empty-handed, I had pointed at what I thought was a piece of deboned fish. When the market lady told me it was alligator instead, I didn’t change my mind. I simply went with my choice.
“Don’t worry about it,” Marlon said. “It’s still legal when the alligators are farmed and they all claim that that’s the case.”
When we entered the section for traditional medicines, the underworld of shamans and superstition, my moral discomfort grew.
Do I encourage behavior I consider unethical by going to a black market? Yes.
Is it wrong to apply my Western values to traditions that have existed for centuries? Probably.
Can I visit the Belen market without judging myself and others? No.
Back home, I sat with my discomfort and wondered why my behavior lately so often conflicts with my values. Am I too hard on myself or not hard enough?
I vowed to make more careful choices next time.
I’m Claire Polders, a writer of fiction and nonfiction.
Woman of the Hour: Fifty Tales of Longing and Rebellion, my debut collection of flash fiction, is available now. You can order it directly from the publisher, on Bookshop, or anywhere else you go for your books.
Read about my other books and more on my website www.clairepolders.com.
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Time to Say Goodbye
Daniel and I arrived in Rio de Janeiro and are staying in a high-rise apartment near Copacabana Beach for a month. After weeks of intense traveling in Peru, it’s time to focus on my writing.
All my best,
Claire
P.S. Did you know that you can hit reply to this email and I will receive your message? No need to have a Substack account. Don’t be shy when you have something to say or ask.
Wow. This is intense, Claire. I felt your moral discomfort and yet keen fascination. The more we travel as nomads, the more immersive our experiences become, and the larger and heavier the question marks are that loom over our heads. Thanks for letting me wrestle with the uncertainty along with you this time, in preparation for my own such experiences.
We visited some markets last week in South Portugal and they were a lot tamer than the Belem market. I would find some of that produce hard to look at, so I think you were pretty gutsy Claire. 👊