I am honored to have been asked by Rio Ceniza’s daughter Ana [Montebon] to be one of those who will say something about her mother–and to Rio herself–on her 83rd birthday.
This grand lady who has been a part of the Silliman scene, off and on, since the 1950s, has been important to many who have known her. She continues to inspire and instruct (as she is a “teacher forever”) in her thoughtful and quiet ways.
As she tells it, Rio came to Silliman as a scholar at the then College of Theology. She did not know what she was enrolling in, but there was a scholarship that she accepted and which would enable her to finish college. An outstanding student in high school in Cebu, she soon proved her worth at the College of Theology. She was an academic scholar, a leader, and an athlete (volleyball and tennis).
But we cannot talk about Rio without talking about Claro. In the language of youth today, Rio was one of the fortunate female students who was taken (sa ato pa, naka-trato na) before she finished college.
And the student who had taken her was the “crush ng bayan” Claro Ceniza of the College of Law. Tall and handsome, bright, campus writer, an outstanding speaker (debater-orator), and most modest, dili hambugero–many women, young and old had a crush on Claro. Indeed, he was too good to be true. And he had chosen Rio to be his sweetheart.
In the 1950s up to the early 1970s, Silliman Farm (later called Silliman Beach) was a favorite picnic site in Dumaguete. We could go there anytime of the day to swim or wade or just enjoy the sea. And if we turned around to look towards the west, we would enjoy the mountains and the sunset.
It was during one of those lazy mornings when our high school barkada was sitting in the shade of that old talisay tree-that-is-no-more on the beach, and we noticed a young couple about to enter the water. One of our friends exclaimed: “Sus, mao man nang bag-ong minyo!” (They’re the newly-married couple).
“Kinsa… kinsang bag-ong minyo?” we were curious now. Our friend answered authoritatively: “Si Claro Ceniza ug si Riorita Espina.”
Rio was wearing a conservatively demure bathing suit (the kind with a short skirt-like thing), and Claro was in some kind of long short shorts (depamilya, or a short version of the purontong that men like to wear when relaxing today). They were a young physically attractive couple, absorbed in each other, and we were younger impressionable teenage girls watching them, perhaps with some kind of envy, wondering if some day we would also have the same romance in our lives.
We watched as they frolicked in the sea, playfully splashing water on each other, and how Rio held on tightly to Claro’s arm as they went deeper. That scene was to stay long with me–an endearing picture of young love.
After their graduation, the Cenizas did not stay here in Dumaguete until years later when they returned, already with five young children [Susan Claire, Cecille Ann, Ana Patrice, Ruth Vivian, Gary Alan].
I got to know Claro and Rio better as faculty colleagues and active church members. The Claro I used to regard with much awe in the 1950s became a more accessible human being, and a warm friend in the College of Arts & Sciences. We served on a few committees together and led in some discussion sessions for the students during Galilean or Religious Emphasis Week. Rio taught in the same department, as my twin sister Myrna (the latter would leave to live abroad), and we were together in other school and church activities.
In the 1980s, the Ceniza family and the Makil family left Dumaguete to reside and work in Manila. We very seldom saw each other there, and one of the few times we saw each other was when Claro and Rio attended an academic conference that was hosted by the outfit I belonged to, the Philippine Social Science Council. During the lunch break, I invited them up to my office where we caught up with news and information about ourselves, about our families, and about Silliman. I did not know that it was to be my last time to see Claro.
Just before returning to retire here in Dumaguete, I received the sad news of Claro’s death. I went to their son Gary’s place in Quezon City where Claro lay in state. Rio received me warmly, now a grieving widow but showing dignity, grace, and courage which comforted me.
As fellow retirees here in Dumaguete now, Rio and I have reconnected closely and are in many activities together. One of these is the HIYAS Bible Study Cluster where Rio often acts as discussion leader, inspiring us with her insights, with her deep concern for others, and her attitude of good, generous living.
She has shared her home with us, her family members (which once included a grandson, Tariq, who impressed us with his loving concern for his lola), and loyal Basing.
Rio’s intellectual curiousity and her willingness to try things that are new, such as herbal medicine which she grows in her garden, have benefited us. RIO WITH A YOUNG SPIRIT…that’s what we think of you.
Thank you, Rio, for making us part of your fascinating and blessed life.
