JP/J.B. Djwan

Fame sits on well on some people, it suits them, quirkily making them more humble, more human. Poet, musician, composer and philosopher Michael Franti is one of these.

Despite world wide acclaim for his music, he is quite simply a really nice guy who likes helping out.

Perhaps this quality was passed down though DNA from his Irish, German and French mother and from his African American/ Native American dad, then honed under the tough love of his adoptive family.

“When I was born I was given up for adoption and raised in a Finnish family in Oakland, California. They had three kids, then they adopted me, later they adopted another African American,” says Franti.

 “My mother, who is five foot one inch tall insisted all us kids were treated exactly the same — she also insisted that when we went out into the world we treated everyone the same — it did not matter what their race, gender, sexual preferences were — we had to treat them equally.

“My mother was tough, very tough. It’s taken me 40 years to really appreciate what it was this hard-arsed woman was giving me.”

Also expressed in Franti’s music is his understanding of life on the outside, that knowledge of accidental exclusion that is woven into the fibers of self when you are different to those around you.

“Even though we were treated equally, I never felt I fitted into the family. Due to that I have always felt an affinity with outsiders — for those who are left out. So I write about inclusion, of reaching out,” says Franti from his new home just south of Ubud.

Like his mother, Franti is a passionate traveler and the discovery of other cultures, other ways of journeying on the potholed streets of life has been a great teacher, he says.

“Following the death of my father, my mother is now dedicated to travel and helping people on the way. She will be volunteering here at Bumi Sehat [birthing clinic] and then on to India to teach English.

“For me also travel is a major influence — I played music on the streets of Iraq, and have been to Jordan, South America, much of Asia. Growing up in America, you are taught there is one way to live and when you go out into the world you see how limited your perspective has been,” says Franti who spends time in Bali talking with artisans, rice farmers, street vendors, any one who can share their stories and views on life.

This seeking of life through other eyes was concentrated in Iraq. “I was playing [music] on the streets of Iraq, I had been playing in hospitals to children damaged by war. A week later I was playing for the soldiers who may have caused those wounds. A woman there, Barbara Lubin told me not to try and deliver my message to the soldiers, just to let them know I was there with them in that moment. Iraq really changed the way I thought about music. For 20 years I was always singing with a social conscious, but on the streets of Iraq the people didn’t want to hear of trouble, they wanted to laugh and dance. They wanted to be transformed,” says Franti who believes this desire for  transformation — for a carrying away of sadness through music, film or meditation, through creativity, is as valuable for those torn by war as for those living snug and safe in their communities.

To assist people into transformation, Franti and business partner, Carla Swanson, have established the Stay Human yoga retreat in Ubud where people can come and “have all their needs taken care of so they can focus on a higher self,” says Franti.

Into that mix of yoga and meditation, is also the discovery of other cultures and the importance of sharing in very concrete ways.

“We also teach to give back to the community here, We have local people teaching about the steps taken to grow rice, the skills needed to make offerings, then to volunteering for organizations like Bumi Sehat. We want people to come here and learn about the culture,” says Franti who first arrived in Bali eight years ago and fell in love with the nature of the island at first sight.

“That first time I came to Bali I fell in love with its nature. I’ve been all over the world — into the Amazon and into fierce deserts, but what I felt in Bali was connected. Everyone is creative — you might work in a shop all day, but then you go home and start creating things... I love to get on my scooter and ride and ride and get lost and then stop and watch someone wood carving, or making bricks or weaving rattan… I love the banjar system, the sense of community, of helping each other out. In America we are so removed from each other — it’s like there is a right of passage that when you finish high school you move away from your parents to go to college — that’s it.”

Franti reaches out to his new Balinese community through fund raising concerts for organizations such as Bumi Sehat, the Environmental Bamboo Foundation and Pelangi (rainbow) School.

“I feel a connection to this school because it has western kids going to school with Balinese kids — it has Balinese teachers and western teachers so kids are growing up in a multi cultural environment and I understand the importance of that,” says the six foot six inch tall Franti.

His next fundraiser will be a New Year’s Eve concert in Ubud to raise awareness and money for the Environmental Bamboo Foundation.

That’s what this musician does, this guy who many call a legend for his blending of hip hop, reggae, jazz folk and rock into sounds with a soul, who has produced dozens of brilliant albums and written words that go to the heart of things, words that shake us up and make us think; he spends his New Year helping out his community. Franti is not just a famous musician, far more importantly he really is a nice guy.

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