Marco Polo

Along the winding road of Nivel Hills you’ll find one of Cebu’s towering landmarks, the Marco Polo Plaza Hotel. Like its legendary namesake, it exudes a charming blend of the East and West, made evident in its continental rooms, Asian hospitality, and mixed cuisine.

One time, I was seated at the Café Marco, mentally prepping myself for a long awaited interview with a European hotelier. For this meeting, I was properly dressed in my most flattering business attire—French braid, Americana top, Italian pumps. Still, I was anxious. I knew it takes so much more than a Western outfit to deal with a continental man.

What is it about European men that flusters me a bit? Is it their strange tongue, their deadpan humor, or simply the fact that I always have to crane my neck to level with their eyes?

To soothe my nerves, I let my eyes wander around the café, well-known for its fine culinary fare of Asian, Japanese and Western flavors showcased on signature kitchens. I fiddled with the table napkin which, I noted, bore the mark of a horse with one leg raised, as if about to bolt.

This particular image made me think of another European guy, Marco Polo, a 13th century Venetian trader and explorer who journeyed to the East and back for 24 years.

History tells that despite Marco’s strangeness in the Eastern world, he was among the first foreigners to be welcomed in Asia. In fact, though he was no prince, he managed to charm his way to a trusted position in the courts of Kublai Khan, ruler of the biggest empire of the east.

What was Marco Polo’s secret? Instead of being shunned or killed for his white skin, how was he able to travel safely and extensively in the unknown Eastern world, relate to different peoples, blend in cultures completely alien in spirit to his own, and even gain the trust of a most feared Mongolian emperor, Kublai Khan?

Was it his education, his proficiency in different languages? Was it blind faith or courage? Or was he simply fortunate that Kublai Khan at that time bore an open mind and a curious nature for foreign cultures?

With my mind still reeling of pictures of Marco Polo on horseback, my appointment arrived. As expected, he towered over my 5’2” frame. Before I could take a deep breath, the European gentleman extended a pale hand for a warm handshake. I smiled. Maybe, sometimes, that’s all it takes to blur the lines between the East and West.

-- Published SunStar Weekend, 11/15/08