This Is Where We Sleep Now’: Tel Aviv Mall Parking Lot Becomes Shelter Amid Iran Missile Barrage

Residents of central Tel Aviv are taking cover below ground as fears of further strikes grow. An underground garage meant for cars now echoes with children’s cries and the smell of instant coffee.

It wasn’t built for this — but on Saturday night, a parking lot underneath one of Tel Aviv’s most popular shopping centers morphed into a lifeline.

The shelter, once home to SUVs and sedans, is now crowded with families, volunteers, and makeshift tents. As missiles thundered above and emergency apps blared warnings, dozens of civilians rushed in with sleeping bags, baby strollers, and backpacks stuffed with essentials — whatever that means in wartime.

A Safe Place, But Nothing About It Feels Normal

Rafi Levi, 39, sat on a folding chair next to his teenage daughter. “We haven’t slept properly since Thursday,” he said, eyes red and hands jittering around a paper cup. “The sirens come every few hours, and you don’t know if it’s the big one.”

For many like Rafi, this isn’t the first time they’ve had to take shelter — but the atmosphere now is different. It’s more anxious. More permanent.

Across the dimly lit garage, clothes hang from makeshift clotheslines tied to concrete pillars. There’s a water cooler near the exit, and a small medical station operated by two off-duty paramedics. Someone plugged a kettle into a wall socket. And everywhere, the low buzz of people pretending this is fine.

One woman, a teacher who declined to give her name, said she’d brought her two young sons down after their kindergarten in Jaffa was shut indefinitely. “I feel more comfortable here because it’s safe,” she said. “Even though this is a parking garage, it’s still better than my apartment with no shelter room.”

Missiles in the Sky, Uncertainty on the Ground

Saturday’s missile barrage from Iran — reportedly over 100 projectiles — was Tehran’s immediate response to the United States’ overnight bombing of Iranian nuclear facilities. The Israeli Ministry of Health reported at least 86 people wounded across the country, with several neighborhoods in Tel Aviv sustaining direct hits.

The parking garage-turned-shelter sits just five blocks from a residential building hit by falling debris.

There’s no official count yet of how many residents have taken refuge underground, but at last count, over 120 people were using the site intermittently.

Key updates surrounding the strike fallout include:

• The Israeli Air Force launched counterattacks Sunday night, hitting Iranian positions in Hamedan, Kermanshah, and near Tehran.

• The U.S. State Department issued a rare Worldwide Caution for all American travelers.

• Iran’s government warned of “powerful and targeted operations” in retaliation, vowing “unpredictable consequences.”

For Tel Aviv Families, Another Emergency Routine

Benny Shavit, a volunteer with the local civil guard, moved through the crowd offering protein bars and flashlights. “Every building in this country has a plan,” he said. “But nobody plans to live underground this long.”

It’s become a grim routine.

At 7 a.m., people line up for the one functioning restroom near the stairwell. By 9, kids sit around coloring books or on phones — some even taking online classes via patchy mobile data. By noon, it’s hot, despite the ventilation. At night, it smells of sweat and stress.

And yet, people adapt. Because they have to.

Inside the Garage: Scenes of Resilience and Survival

Not everything here is bleak. Kids still laugh, sometimes. People share food. A young couple played chess under a construction lamp they’d dragged in. There’s even a charging station taped together using an old power strip and two power banks.

Yossi, a tech worker, said his company let him work remotely from the shelter. “We deployed from under a Tel Aviv mall,” he joked, tapping on his laptop. “Welcome to Startup Nation in wartime.”

A whiteboard stands near the garage’s far wall, scribbled with times for daily updates, food distributions, and contact info for therapy volunteers. Someone added a note: “No loud TikToks after 10 p.m.”

How Long This Will Last? Nobody Knows

While the Israeli government hasn’t issued mandatory evacuation orders in Tel Aviv, it’s advised residents to remain close to shelters and limit movement. For many, the garage is the best option.

But tensions are high. Supplies are finite. And rumors spread quickly — sometimes faster than official updates.

At one point Sunday evening, someone screamed that another strike was incoming. Dozens bolted deeper into the lot, only to discover it was a false alarm triggered by a siren test from a nearby embassy.

“There’s no sleep, only naps,” Rafi said, smiling weakly. “We nap with shoes on.”

The Shekel Holds Steady, But Hearts Don’t

Even as markets seem to cheer Israel’s “restored deterrence” — the shekel has rallied 1% this month and government bonds have ticked up — the mood on the ground couldn’t be more different.

Most shelter residents don’t want to hear about currency fluctuations.

A 61-year-old named Miriam, wrapped in a thick blanket, brushed it off entirely. “What will I do with a stronger shekel?” she asked. “Buy better canned tuna?”

Yet beneath the sarcasm, there’s an edge. Everyone here knows this is only the beginning of something — but what, exactly, nobody can say.

Here’s a small glimpse of how financial markets have reacted over the past week:

Hope Lingers, Just Not on the Surface

There’s no clear endgame yet. Iran has vowed to press ahead with uranium enrichment. Israel shows no sign of letting up. The U.S. State Department continues its global warnings.

But for the families sleeping on garage floors, the conversation is simpler.

“We’ll stay here until the sky quiets down,” said the teacher, rubbing her son’s head as he finally nodded off. “And then maybe we’ll go buy shoes upstairs. They’re having a sale.