OK, as a little extra
Dasiisirkagi Kugirii present, I cooked up some translations of the phrases mentioned above. At least I
think these work.
Vilani for tourists?
"Please, kind sir, could you direct me to the lavatory?"
Well, now. This is pretty complicated. You generally can't just go up to the nearest Vilani you see and demand to know where you can relieve yourself. Rather, you should approach a Desk Clerk or Information Officer (there are usually plenty of them on any Vilani world), wait your turn, and tell him/her something like:
"Diimki ka mekurak: Dushurek meshe?"
(literally: "Do your job. Where's the bathroom?")
Admittedly, this is a little brusque. Ordinarily you should wait for the official to acknowledge your request for service before telling him/her what you need. But even the Vilani recognize a bathroom situation as potentially urgent enough to let some protocol issues slide.
Even if you don't see an official nearby, it's generally not a good idea to walk around approaching strange Vilani with bodily function related requests. If you do, however, you must make it absolutely certain to him/her that you have no other choice but to come to him/her for the information. Something like this should work:
"Maraanash sedakhedu! Seskhinnuuzish binerii ka sigadulare ka segedaamnurkashaan: Dushurek meshe?"
(literally: Greetings my stranger! I ask that you forgive me for these actions that are the result of my increasingly panicky burden: Where is the bathroom?")
Note:
"Segedaamnurkashaan" ("my increasingly panicky burden") is a known (if slightly prudish) euphemism for "I really have to go!"
Now if you say that right, and are understood, and don't inadvertently call the Vilani a criminal (see below), he/she should reward you ... by pointing you in the direction of the nearest person who is qualified to tell you where the bathroom is.
Also note that you addressed the Vilani as
"sedakhedu" ("MY stranger"), rather than simply
"dakhedu" ("any old stranger"). This is important: just because YOU don't know who he/she is, please don't insult your new Vilani acquaintance by implying that NOBODY does! The last thing you want is to be dancing around with a full bladder while the Vilani you just impugned is furiously waving his paperwork and family photos in your face.
"Pardon me, but the Vargr has eaten my pants."
Polite version -- say, you're a guest at a prominent Vilani friend's villa, and another guest (a Vargr) has been into your hamper:
"Melelaa! Kimguna nesh daakha Kaniizu ka sezirike!"
(literally: Alas! The Vargr just ate my pants!)
Less polite version -- say, you wake up on the floor of a starport bar after one too many rounds of Vilani beer. Your shoes are missing, your pants are torn to shreds, and there's Vargr slobber all over your knee. If I were you, I'd say:
"Burudak! Kimguna igi adlaam ka sezirike Daag dakakapu!"
(literally: Fr@ck! Some stupid-@$$ Dog has eaten my pants again!)
It should go without saying that you don't want to have too many Vargr present when you call one of them a
"Daag." And
"burudak" (a barnyard epithet derived from
"burud" -- "to stab, pierce"), although not as harsh as its Anglic equivalent, is an exclamation generally unwelcome unless used to express unhappy realizations in seedy locales.
And for the record: the quickest way to get a Vilani woman to break your nose is to call her
"buruda" to her face.
"Excuse me, but it looks like your world is being invaded."
That's easy! Generally, we say:
"Irgimke. Lekag Solomani."
(literally: Oh, great. The Solomani are here.)