It is eight in the morning, and the car's dashboard display reads 36°C on the streets of San Pedro Sula, Honduras. The sky is almost clear: an intense blue with a few bright, drifting clouds. The air conditioning in the cars—all with tinted windows—makes you forget that upon stepping out, the warm, humid air will immediately weigh on your shoulders and break a sweat.
Puerto Cortés on the Caribbean coast is too far away for a quick dip, but in the neighborhood of Armenta, the eponymous river flows almost silently down from the Sierra del Merendón, running from west to east through gray stones. On the northern bank, tall, leafy trees along the upper edge of the ravine shade a long, dry, and dusty plaza, while thick, exposed roots give texture to the ground. The sun is less punishing.
