Once the storm clears, the villagers grab buckets and baskets and head down the road to a sunken pasture where the ground will be covered in hundreds of small, silver-colored fish.
For some, it is the only time of the year they will have a chance to eat seafood.
“It’s a miracle,” explained Lucio Pérez, 45, a farmer who has lived in the La Unión community for 17 years. “We see it as a blessing from God.”
Mr. Pérez has heard the various scientific theories for the phenomenon. Each, he says, is riddled with uncertainty.
“No, no, there’s no explanation,” he asserted, shaking his head. “What we say here in Yoro is that these fish are sent by the hand of God.”
The phenomenon has happened in and around the town for generations, residents say, from time to time shifting locations. It migrated to La Unión about a decade ago.
“Nobody elsewhere thinks it rains fish,” said Catalina Garay, 75, who, with her husband, Esteban Lázaro, 77, raised nine children in their adobe home in La Unión. “But it rains fish.”
Some residents attribute the occurrence to the prayers of Manuel de Jesús Subirana, a Catholic missionary from Spain who in the mid-1800s, asked God to help ease the Yoro region’s hunger and poverty. Soon after he issued his plea, the legend goes, the fish rain began.
Mr. Subirana’s remains are buried in the city’s main Catholic church, on Yoro’s central square.
“The people loved him a lot,” said José Rigoberto Urbina Velásquez, Yoro’s municipal manager. “There are so…