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ISTANBUL, TURKEY ­— For as long as I can remember, but especially after Sept. 11, 2001, whenever I would tell people of my plans to visit family in the Middle East for the summer, I was sure to encounter at least one person worried for my safety. I’ve always laughed in response – the image of death, destruction and M-16s firing at random is as foreign to me as to any of my well-wishers.

When Hezbollah abducted two soldiers and Israel responded by firing back, I was in Amman, Jordan.

I was far enough away that the tragedy and the chaos could not touch me, but I would hear and see the aftermath and the spillover into neighboring Arab countries – much like being in California during Hurricane Katrina.

I was there to see the nervousness and the prayers for my great uncle, who caught a flight into Beirut to drive his daughter and two grandchildren to Syria.

I was there to hear that they watched the car in front of them, loaded with another family trying to escape, be blown apart.

I met two children who couldn’t sleep because they thought nearby wedding fireworks were bombs.

I watched grown men turn to brush away tears after seeing images of children pulled from rubble.

I was in Turkey making pancakes and French toast for breakfast when my family turned on the TV to see the latest news on Sunday – the bombing of the civilian building in Qana, Lebanon – followed by the protests turning ugly at the Lebanese United Nations building.

I wanted to write about the difference between the Arab news here and the news coming in from the Western world at first – I had noticed the general tendency for Arab news to focus on the Arab angle and the Western news reaching me on satellite (mostly BBC World and CNN International) to focus on the Israeli angle.

I was going to describe my initial shock of moving from on-the-ground images of destruction of Lebanon in Arab news to the skyline views of untouched buildings on BBC World. But the images of small, unnecessary corpses in Qana emphasized this split in focus.

It was disheartening to see that while the Qana bombing and its aftermath made the news on the Arab stations, what made the BBC World news were the protests about Qana.

For Western news, what bleeds does not lead – after all, protests turning violent are easier to condemn than corpses.

Israel’s free exercise of defense has caused more civilian deaths and destabilization of peace than the peace it claims to try to ensure, and the failure of an unconditional cease-fire has ensured the continued destabilization of the area. These are the feelings making up the general mood of those I have met and talked to here in the Middle East.

Here, you’re not safe anywhere from a conversation about the situation. Even while I was buying fish for dinner, the stand’s owner stopped to break it down for me: We can’t count on the so-called democratic Western world, he said in accented but fluent English. It does what’s in its best interest. Arab countries must instead unite and stand for justice because the West is dividing and conquering.

After a few hours of news, my family will turn off the blaring television or will change the channel, or go on some pleasant tour around Turkey.

In Jordan, the people I know are still living their day-to-day lives. Beyond the flow of people who have left Lebanon for the safety of nearby countries, the only difference between being here in the Middle East and anywhere else is the sadness for their neighbors and cynicism towards diplomacy.

Hashem was the 2005-2006 Viewpoint editor. E-mail her at nhashem@ucla.edu. Send general comments to viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.