I was in Itaewon last night when what was supposed to be a joyful party devolved into horror. Many people are still trying to process what has happened.
Like many others, I was excited to finally meet friends and spend the night with them. Several members of our group had flown in for the weekend, as borders had recently reopened.
After more than two years of Covid restrictions, we finally had an excuse to get together. Itaewon, in particular, has suffered greatly as a result of being one of the sites of an early Covid outbreak that brought the area to its knees.
When we arrived in the area around 7pm local time, it was clear that there were already a lot of people. The subway doors exploded open as revellers, many of whom were dressed up, made their way out of Itaewon station.
Subway employees were attempting to usher people amassing at the ticket gates. Outside, it was already chaos. I couldn’t move.
Our meeting location was about a minute’s walk from the station, but it took us more than 10 minutes to get there, squeezing through crowds and pop-up makeup stands offering Halloween makeovers.
People were already spilling on to the congested roads. There was no more room on the main road’s pavements. I don’t remember seeing any crowd control.
Itaewon is mostly one long road stretching east to west, centred on the station in the middle, with the Hamilton Hotel above. Many bars and clubs line a street parallel to the main street, only accessible through a series of narrow alleyways.
We arrived at our destination, which was filled with music, food and performances. The plan was to go for second rounds, perhaps at a nearby bar. But, like before, we could not move. Outside, it was chock-a-block.
It’s all too common to find yourself crammed into a club in Itaewon and unable to move. Except that seemed to be the case last night on the streets as well. So we decided to take the subway to a more peaceful location. The time was 10.30pm.
We began to make our way back to the station. Many were forced to walk on the road. I’ve seen Itaewon busy, but never like this. Then we started hearing fire engines. They were barely able to move.
A situation was developing near Itaewon station, in front of the Hamilton Hotel. A fire truck and an ambulance had already arrived, and two police officers stood on top of their police car, pleading with people to leave.
People were fleeing the area. Music was still blaring from every direction, making it difficult to understand what was going on. People were pouring out of the station, as were many who were attempting to enter it. It was chaos.
We all began receiving government emergency broadcasts sent to every mobile phone in Yongsan district, advising people to return home as soon as possible due to an emergency situation near the Hamilton Hotel. These alerts are normally sent out in cases of disasters and emergencies.
More police officers arrived and ordered everyone to leave the area. I searched the news and social media but found nothing.
Then, in real time, horrifying videos of firefighters performing CPR on dozens of lifeless bodies began to emerge. It was becoming clear that something terrible had just happened. It turned out to be a crowd crush.
Authorities initially reported that 50 people were in “cardiac arrest”, a term often used in South Korea to indirectly describe death before it is confirmed by a doctor. Horrific images of rows of blue body bags outside the station emerged on social media, making it clear that these were not minor injuries.
Itaewon, located in Seoul’s Yongsan district, is synonymous with South Korea’s foreign community and party life. Until recently, it was home to a huge US military base.
Itaewon has cafes, bars, clubs and restaurants of cuisines from around the world. It’s vibrant, full of life and offers a certain freedom from society’s conservative gaze that few other places in the country do.
This tragedy is affecting so many people. There are still missing people. Right now, it’s difficult to find words to describe what has happened. Everyone has been messaging each other since last night and this morning to check in with one another.
Devastated, I stayed at my friend’s house. His phone rang this morning, his father having just found out. “Son, are you safe?” he said. So many won’t have the same privilege, and my heart breaks for them.
