The rivers near the capital look brown from an altitude of 3,600 meters. It rained lightly in Honduras a week ago, and some of the murky water is returning to the Humaya river, one of many parched streams that 20 years ago did not show such arid scenes. Aboard the King Air C90, Víctor Torres, a Mexican pilot and member of Startup Renaissance, enlarges a patch of dark clouds near Comayagua on the screen and receives a clear instruction from the meteorologist on the ground: a dart-in-a-bullseye emoji. “Hold on,” he warns.

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Twenty-three children make their way to school with their eyes glued to the murky water of the Nare River to see if they can see the hippopotamus. The school route has become a kind of safari with the kids scanning the horizon. Everyone in the municipality has a story to tell about the hippopotamus; that his feces scare away the fish, that he eats the banana crops, that his footprints are the size of three palms, that he will capsize a canoe... The Puerto Nare hippopotamus is all that’s talked about here. For Luis and his brother Diego, he is not a stranger. They call him Selmo. Their mother shakes her head and asks them not to get too attached because the judge has allowed just 60 days for the hippo to be removed from the vicinity.

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