Knesset and evolving Israeli society

I went to the Knesset, or Israeli Parliament, yesterday for a discussion on the right to health of Bedouin Arab women in unrecognized villages of the Negev. The outside reader may not understand any of those terms, so here is a glossary:

Bedouin: originally nomadic Muslim Arab people who wandered across the Middle East; in Israel, most Bedouins are settled now. A majority live in the Negev, which is the desert that makes up southern Israel.

Unrecognized Villages: About half of the 80,000 Bedouins of the Negev live in communities the government does not recognize. As such, they have no roads, electricity, water, or health services. The discussion focused on what that situation means for Bedouin women, who often have to travel long distances, with kids, to get medical care.

Anyways...I found the meeting fascinating because half the attendees were Bedouin women themselves, who came to the Knesset wearing traditional long dress and head coverings, and spoke to four MPs about their plight, including walking an hour across the desert to the nearest clinic.

The only part of the meeting I found hard to wrap my head around is a new dress code in the Knesset itself. Three years ago I went to the Knesset as a reporting intern at the Jerusalem Post. I was struck then by the aching informality of the place. People wandered the building in jeans. Corpulent politicians waddled the halls. At a small, highly-covered meeting, lawmakers blatantly answered their cell phones. In the main plenary hall, only a handful of the 120 MPs even bothered to attend a hearing.

Therefore I was shocked when I got into my coworker's car in Tel Aviv yesterday and he told me that my jeans could be a problem. Apparently a year and a half ago Knesset speaker Dalia Itzik laid down a dress code outlawing jeans, short pants, skin-baring shirts and other informal attire.

However, when the guard at the door asked my coworker "Who is the princess in jeans?" he seemed satisfied with the answer "She's American," which I guess explained and excused my slobbish appearance.

This is one of a few events that have surprised me in Israel and made me think that perhaps this country is moving behind its roots as a hub of elbowing, loud, demanding and unapologetic people. About two weeks ago I was biking down a main street of Tel Aviv when a car came zooming out of a side street. I braked so hard I nearly fell off my bike. The driver braked as well, and then took responsibility. "It was my fault," he said. "I'm sorry."

I was so flabbergasted, I would have been happy if he had done it again.