Translation Please? (C)

The world was a swirl of vibrant colours. Sweet flowers wafted down the street along with the smells of rush hour traffic, the smoke from the afternoon market, and the pungent odour of the durian sold by street-side vendors. It was a hot and humid afternoon. The market could be a busy and distracting place.
 In the distance I could here someone shouting over the crowds.
"Excuse me," she called out loudly, "I'm sorry!" But no one showed any sign of understanding her.
Above me the fruit vendor was smiling. He shouted out, "Canada!" in his nasal accent.
"Hello." She replied.
"Sawadee krub." He smiled.
"Mango." she said, pointing at the mangoes, "One."
"One?" he held up one finger. She nodded, "Yes." He put a juicy yellow mango in a bag for her.
I was relieved when she looked at me briefly, wrinkling up her nose.
"Pineapple." she said now, pointing to bags of pineapples, "One."
"One?" he echoed in his nasal accent, and held up one finger.
She nodded, impatiently. He put the second bag in with the mango.
"How ... are ... you?" the vendor's wife said slowly, smiling all the while.
"I am good." the girl replied, "How are you?"
"Very ... good." she answered.
The fruit vendor said. "Haa sip baht."
"What?"
"Fif-ty."
The girl reached for some bills from her purse.  She received a 10 baht coin in return.
"Kob khun krub, Canada."
"Thank you."
I breathed a sigh of relief, as did my brothers. We were safe.... for now.