I’m writing this post on the second floor of a coffee shop in Cofradía, this bustling town in northwest Honduras which has been my home for the past six months. It is January and the temperature outside is 91 degrees, a thick, humid heat that seeps into your clothes and pores. Cofradía rests in a valley surrounded by the Merendón Mountains, the range that divides Honduras from Guatemala. Before I came here to volunteer with an international NGO, I pictured a rustic mountain town with coffee farms, herds of cows, and run-down houses on quiet dirt roads. Instead, I arrived…