alien vs local

on a normal day, in an average cab, through a regular street, the driver leaned with the car to the right side of the road in a sudden, yet smooth move. she
noticed him, but acted as if she didn't. he was in his late sixties at least, hair all white, a golden watch, cheap brown plastic sunglasses with two golden stripes on each side. he almost stopped totally and yelled "where you go?" in a confident sharp clear note. she turned her head, leaned forward and read off a paper that she held "26th of July". he answered in the same voice "come on".
she was blond, big, well dressed, wearing thin metal framed glasses, holding a relatively big bag. got in. "shokran" with a full american accent.
"building 130" she read off the same paper. "نمرة ١٣٠ " i translated, "how can i say (building)" she asked.
as we started having a conversation about Cairo he just drove quietly without saying a word with a big smile on his face.
usually in a cab I'm in my grey mode, in which i act merely as a lubricant to the drivers monologue, feeling most alienated. as if I'm amusing an unwanted guest, or even justifying my presence in his car. my conversation with the Canadian teacher at the back seat had very little phrases and lots of recognition sighs and "aahh's".
where she lived, and how far is it from work. how was she treated by cairo's streets today.we even discussed how sharing a cb is a common thing around here.
slowly over a minute or two he was the awkward alien smiling through a conversation he didn't completely understand about our city. he contributed a few words such as "crowded!", "how you take metro", and "ولية لذيذة،...إجتماعية"