First, let me tell you more about the chaperone:
He’s shy, and he said his English is rusty, but he understands most things and I want to adopt him too.
He was an expert vomit catcher and cleaner-upper on the horrible drive home. He sat next to my crying baby and played with him for 9 hours in the car. He opens doors for me, helps me clean up the house, and he cooks. He likes to cook. He doesn’t like American food, so he’s cooking us Ukrainian foods. I’m good with that.
Also, I have NO IDEA why he is single. Just saying.
Tonight Mariana got a splinter in her foot and she was wailing at the top of her lungs, Ada style. The chaperone, Andrii his is name, immediately took charge. Tweezers appeared from nowhere, and he spent 30 minutes with her little foot in his face on the floor shushing her gently while digging that sucker out of her foot.
Andrii, which is pronounced On-Dreeee, said he’s worked at an orphanage for 5.5 years as a teacher. He doesn’t work at Misha and Mariana’s orphanage, he lives in an entirely different region and has only known them on this trip. They just assign a chaperone to each airport, and since the host kids are chosen off of a big list by people all over the USA they don’t usually end up with a chaperone from their orphanage.
Here is a picture from the arrival at the airport. My two kids were very, very tired and afraid. Andrii is the man in the plaid shirt with glasses.