Many Americans have been watching Honduras for tales of military coups and political intrigue. But Alexie Elfmont knows the Central American country has other problems.

A recent graduate of the University of Southern California's film school who grew up in Miami, Elfmont spent nearly three weeks in Honduras two summers ago. She documented the street children, gangs and prisoners of San Pedro Sula, the industrial capital of one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere.

The result: a documentary on Honduran teenagers at risk, called Blinded by Open Arms. The film has been screened in several film festivals, including the Artivist Festival in Los Angeles and the International Film Festival of South Africa.

``I had a good connection with the people. I told them why I was there. I wanted to hear their story,'' said Elfmont, 24, a graduate of Ransom Everglades in Coconut Grove.

Elfmont first learned about Honduras from Eduardo Sabillon, a Honduran native who is a research assistant and family therapist at the University of Miami. Five years ago, he founded Club Desafio, a nonprofit dedicated to keeping Honduran teens off the streets and away from drugs.

``He asked me to shoot a fundraising video to raise awareness about the organization,'' Elfmont said in a phone interview from New York.

After researching the country, Elfmont wanted to do more than a promotional video. She recruited five college friends, packed up her film equipment in 19 metal cases and filmed in San Pedro Sula for nearly three weeks.

For 17 days, the filmmakers interviewed former M-13 (Mara Salvatrucha) and M-18 gang members, drug addicts, lawyers, policemen, politicians and prison officials.

They filmed children begging on street corners, inhaling glue and sleeping on sheets of cardboard. Their stories have a common theme: extreme poverty, low education rates and broken homes. More than 50 percent of the Honduran population lives below the poverty line.

The young filmmaker took her camera into San Pedro Sula's prison, where prostitution and rapes are common. Foreigners are the most common target of kidnappings. Although there are women in the prison, it is not divided by gender, Elfmont said.

``We went inside with one policeman. I remember walking through the prison and feeling the eyes of the inmates fixated on our bodies,'' she said. ``I felt I was a piece of meat and that at any moment, something could happen to me.''

Later that night, filmmakers went out with a Honduran SWAT team that regularly patrols the streets. They came across a 13-year-old boy who appears in the film sniffing glue.

``Why are you in the street?'' Elfmont asks.

``Because I don't have a family,'' he replies.

Sabillon was impressed with the candor of those interviewed.

``Nobody does this in Honduras,'' he said, discussing the film. ``In a way, people are victims of the system and they wanted to be heard.''

One former drug addict clearly did.

Heidi, a former M-18 gang member, was raped by her father and living on the streets. She was 22 -- the same age as Elfmont at the time.

On screen, a rehabilitated Heidi acknowledges her troubled journey.

``I adored the devil. When pastors came, I didn't pray with them because I prayed to the devil,'' Heidi says in the documentary. ``I was high all day, every day. All I learned in the street was about drugs.''

Today, Heidi talks with Honduran teens about her difficulties.

``Her story is so strong. But she was an agent of change,'' Elfmont said. ``She is the epitome of the whole situation in Honduras.''

Honduras is a transshipment point for drugs and narcotics and a large producer of marijuana, cultivated on small plots and used principally for local consumption, according to the CIA Factbook.

Sabillon's organization -- whose Miami counterpart is Healthy Mind-Healthy Body -- is trying to counter that culture. Club Desafio is modeled after Drug Free Youth in Town (DFYIT), a nonprofit drug prevention program in Miami-Dade and Broward counties.

The program teaches Honduran teens about HIV, alcohol abuse, drug prevention and gang violence. Organizers work in 10 urban schools in Santa Barbara, Honduras.

``Through our organization.,we meet with teachers, organize festivals and have weekly meetings with teenagers,'' Sabillon said.

To join the program, Honduran students have to pledge to be drug free and agree to randomly take a urine test. In return, they are treated to field trips and T-shirts.

Sabillon started in one school with 45 kids. Five years later, Club Desafio works with 400 children in 10 schools.

Sabillon is convinced his organization is helping.

``We want to bring awareness. We need to educate these young people,'' he said. ``My biggest interest is to create recreational sites in some of these schools.''

Sabillon thinks more can be done. On Sunday, he heads to Honduras.

To learn more about Club Desafio, go to www.clubdesafio.com or e-mail club.desafio@hotmail.com.