I started writing this article hoping to talk about quintessential German things: delicious currywurst sausages, fancy automobiles and unlimited servings of beer. But four days into my vacation to Germany, I received concerned messages from family and friends, asking me if I was OK. These messages were in reference to the shootings in Munich, a city that I had been in just the previous day.

The Munich shooting was not the first act of violence in Germany that week; another attack by a teenage Afghan refugee in Wuerzburg just a few days earlier had resulted in four deaths. Soon after the Munich attack, two more attacks had taken place in the country, in Reutlingen and Ansbach.

I have never experienced anything as strange in my life — to be in a country afflicted with as many acts of terrorism, small or large, in such a short period of time. But not everyone can say the same. What to me feels strange — unfamiliar and scary — is the norm for so many people around the world who live in regions torn with violence. A fleeting instance of terror isn’t just "fleeting" for some, it is their entire lives.

While "noteworthy" acts of terrorism and large-scale violence are reported, so many others go unheard of. The only reason I knew there were four attacks, and not one, in Germany was because I was constantly exposed to local news. Had I not been there, I probably wouldn’t have heard more than “Shooting in Munich mall, nine dead.” The problem with the way we are dealing with terrorism today lies in the fact that while attacks in places like Munich are reported worldwide, more frequent attacks in entire countries can be overlooked.

Let’s take Syria for instance. Most of us don’t talk about the attacks in Syria everyday, most of us don’t mourn the lives of the people who die, and most of us don’t really seem to care. And the ones who do talk about Syria do so in a resigned manner, believing that violence is the norm and there is nothing to be done about it. And there is nothing wrong in stating the fact that Syria is plagued with violence, and hundreds of people die each week. Instead, the problem lies in being complacent and in believing that the next act of terrorism in Syria should just be stacked up with all the ones that precede it. It is this “normalization of violence” that gives terrorists the power to wield weapons, without any material or moral consequence from the government and people.

Today, we need to face the reality that terrorism is not just a topic we can shove into the attic, and bring out once every few months when a New York, a Paris or a Munich is attacked. It is a living and breathing monster that we can no longer control, and should no longer overlook. Every act of terrorism is a threat to human life, and every threat to human life is unacceptable.

So we can go on making memes about Melanie Trump’s RNC speech, cranking up the Brexit jokes or mulling over Hillary’s outfit choices. But the more important question to ask right now is the one we tend to avoid: Is a German life more important than a Syrian one?