At the moment, I’m on a bus in Shan State. Outside is jungle, inside is a TV playing covers of Top 40. We pass through a village, a jumbled chaos of billboards, tin-roofed houses and pagodas, dusty roads overflowing with hawkers and monks and horses.

There are people in Burma who believe that the United States is the greatest country in the world. That surprised me. I’m of a generation that’s used to thinking of America as consumerism, corporatism, and corrupted politics; my partner and I have talked about moving to Europe, and except for a brief stint in Detroit, my homes in the States have been entirely on America’s liberal coastline, as far away from ‘Merica as possible.

The idea of “America” doesn’t mean much to me. The language around “American ideals”, “American values”, or “the American dream” has been so corrupted and exhausted by political agendas that my immediate reaction to anything that hints at patriotism is disengagement and cynicism.

And yet, people in Burma still believe in America. It got me thinking. I’m on a 4-month journey through Asia, interviewing innovators — entrepreneurs, artists, accelerators, investors, activists. When I came to Asia, I expected to find models of innovation and creativity that blew the United States out of the water; I’m so used to thinking of America as an old, tired idea, past its prime and on its way to decline, that I didn’t even question whether I would find a better alternative in Asia. I just assumed I would.

My reality got rearranged by a venture capitalist in Singapore. “We don’t have an ecosystem of crazy people: entrepreneurs, serial entrepreneurs, angel investors, VCs — [Silicon Valley] is a whole ecosystem of crazy people… and it’s not going to get taken down anytime soon. It’s going to be the dominant hub. The way to get inspired is to build a bridge to the Valley.” What he said was reinforced by hundreds of subsequent conversations: the innovators in Asia see the United States as the leader in innovation and entrepreneurship, and they look to the States — particularly the Bay Area — for inspiration, partnership, and support.

It made me realize that America is something worth caring about. Not because the United States is better than other countries (it’s not) or because our culture has something inherent that makes it superior (it doesn’t.) But the United States does do something very well. It tolerates — and even encourages — the crazy people. And it turns out that the ruckus makers, the disruptors, the radicals and the heretics, need a place to call home: a place that celebrates the people on the edge, rather than discouraging or ostracizing them. And for now, the consensus among the innovators I’ve talked to, is that that place is America.