BESLAN, Russia, Nov 17, 2009 (Xinhua via COMTEX) -- (Universal Children's Day) Feature: Five years on, survivors of Beslan school siege learn to be strong

By Xinhua writers Lou Chen, Gao Fan and Zhang Yachen

Russian boy Ruslan Salhazanov is a survivor of the deadly hostage siege on Sept. 1, 2004, at the No. 1 School in Beslan, a small city in Russia's North Ossetia.

Ruslan was only seven and attending his first day of school on the day the tragedy happened, in which he lost his mother and baby sister.

The Beslan hostage incident, initiated by militants demanding an end to the Chechen war, remains to this day one of the biggest terrorist attacks that claimed the lives of so many children.

More than 1,100 people were taken hostage for two nights and three days. A total of 333 people died, 186 of them children -- pupils at the school or their siblings.

Five years have passed since the siege, but what happened in this town was so shocking that Beslan may never be free from the grief it caused.

Five years later, Xinhua correspondents visited Beslan to talk with some survivors of the carnage -- children, teachers, parents and families -- to find out how they were doing, what had changed and what had not.

Particularly, the story of Ruslan -- his losses, recovery, questions, and hopes -- serves as a textbook example to learn how the lives of Beslan children were forever changed.

SHOCKING SIEGE

On Sept. 1, 2004, Ruslan got up early in the morning. It was the traditional Russian "Day of Knowledge," and Ruslan's first day of school.

His mother Larisa, who worked in a state hospital, helped him put on a new tailor-made black suit and handed him a bouquet of flowers wrapped in white and blue.

The boy was excited because his grandmother Vera and four-year-old baby sister Lada would also accompany him to school. The families posed together for a couple of photos to remember that day.

"It was supposed to be a festival for the family," his grandmother Vera recalled. "Ruslan's father had things to do at work, so I said I'll go. We were all happy to bring my boy to school. We went to see his classroom, and also took pictures there."

One of the photos, which shows a smiling Ruslan hugging his mother, was developed from their camera recovered from the siege debris after the attack. The photo showed it was 9:26 a.m., about the time when the massacre began.

"After I took the photo, I found my baby girl Lada's white sunhat was on the floor. I bent over to pick it up, but when I raised my head, I saw those people dressed in black charging toward us ... they pointed guns to our faces, our heads," Vera recalled.

Minutes later, the terrorists swarmed into the school and began a 52-hour-siege. Inside a stifling gym, the terrorists refused to give the hostages any food or water.

"Many children peed in their shoes and drank the urine. The children crouched there, some fell asleep, some were crying," Vera said, choking with sobs.

The siege ended with a bloody gun battle between the hostage takers and the Russian forces, leaving slain children, gutted walls and burnt-out woods. Today, the destruction at the school remains almost untouched for memorial purposes. Ruslan took us to visit the old school, which was only within walking distance to his home.

"Here, it was here," Ruslan said, walking to the center of the gym. He pointed to the floor. "Here, I was with my mother."

"I crawled there like a frog. Mom kissed me, and told me they would let us go very soon," he said. Clouds of sadness settled on his brow as he revisited the gym, his hands toying with a piece of rubber he had picked up somewhere.

"That was Salslan, he was my neighbor, we should have been in the same class," Ruslan said, looking at a photo of a boy on the wall.

"Look, I ran out from here," he continued, walking over to the other side of the wall. He then pointed at a giant hole on the wall. "There was a loud bomb, and through the smoke I saw this side was bombed out. A woman ran out, and I ran after her," he recalled.

Later, Ruslan was reunited in the hospital with his grandmother Vera, who was slightly wounded. However, his mother and sister did not survive.

HEALING HEARTS

Like many other children, Ruslan suffered both physically and mentally after the attack. He was sent to Moscow for treatment of burns on his left leg. "He woke up at evenings, screaming, and he cried from pains of the burns on his leg," his grandmother recalled.

For a long time, the boy didn't speak about what had happened. He also refused to visit his mother's and little sister's tombs.

The incident left many children as well as their parents traumatized. Seventy-two children became handicapped. Seventeen children lost their parents. Within only two and a half years, as many as 36 people died from failure to cope with the loss of their families.

"Immediately after the attack, many children showed signs of fear and timidity. Some refused to drink, eat, or go out," said Marina Tekaeva, a soft-speaking psychology teacher at the new No. 1 School in Beslan. "Our first job then was to get the children back to school."

Now the children take two to three psychology classes each week.

Most teachers tasked with the counseling job know what has happened and keep close contact with the families. Thus, they were able to help the children deal with post-traumatic syndromes, Tekaeva added. The teachers also offer counseling via telephone to the children and the affected adults.

"I remember seeing a first-grader began to cry the moment he set his foot on the first stair of the school building. It was only after about two weeks or even later that they dared to enter the classroom," she said.

With the help of families and teachers, most children gradually overcame their post-traumatic symptoms. "It's been five years. The first-graders now are in fifth grade. I don't see fear in their faces now. I see hope and happiness," Tekaeva observed.

As part of the rehab plan, Ruslan spent several days in Southern China's Sanya city, where he received traditional Chinese medicine treatment.

He said he still remembered the taste of Chinese cola and the herbal medicine. "They were so bitter, but they seemed to have worked," he said.

Ruslan now studies at the No. 8 School in Beslan, which is closer to his home. He doesn't avoid questions about what happened. At school, he is popular because of his outgoing personality.

But for those orphaned and with physical difficulties that require consistent medical treatment, the road to recovery is much longer. "There are still a few children who, for many reasons, can't attend schools, and we try to help them as much as we can," Tekaeva said.

"REMEMBER, THIS CANNOT HAPPEN AGAIN"

About ten minutes' drive from the old Beslan school, a new cemetery has been built. Locals have dubbed it a "City of Angels." At one entrance to the cemetery, a huge statue of three angels holding infants on their outstretched hands overlooks rows and rows of spotless tombstones.

Half a decade later, sites like the cemetery and old school gym have become shrines for the victims. Some have made it a daily ritual to visit these sites, bringing mementos like toys, books and flowers.

On anniversary occasions, the peaceful cemetery would become a venue for mass mourning rallies.

Today, beneath the peaceful lives of Beslan, there are still struggles -- struggles to understand what happened, struggles to find out who should be blamed, and struggles to break free from the disturbing past.

One may never fully recover from losing loved ones, and the choking memories may never be fully weeded out, but life goes on for the Beslan children and the Beslan people.

Across the old school, a new school has been built, which many of the survivors now attend. Some of the students want to be teachers, some want to be cosmonauts, and some want to be oligarchs or simply, their wives.

Ruslan, now 12 years old, wants to be a taekwondo world champion. He is enrolled in the school's taekwondo class, which he takes seriously. He lives with a big family which includes his grandmother, aunts and uncle.

For the children in Beslan, security, however, still remains a concern. The city, home to about 35,000 people, is near troubled regions like Ingushetia, Chechenya and Dagestan.

The Russian procuratorial authorities announced this month that the North Caucasus region, which encompasses Beslan, had registered about 425 terrorist acts since the beginning of this year. A total of 273 illegally armed militants were shot dead in the first nine months in this region.

Visitors to the No. 1 school need to have their identities checked and go through security checks.

School headmaster Lyudmila Dzutseva said she was determined to provide the children with a safe environment to study and live in.

After the siege, seeds of peace have been planted in local people's hearts.

A card at the entrance to the old school gym expresses the wish in every Beslan child's heart: "Remember! This can't happen again!"