For urban planners, the 1980 map is a tragedy of lost greenery. For nostalgic Betawi (natives), it is a painful memory of a kampung lifestyle replaced by apartments. For me, it is simply a beautiful piece of art.

For those of us who grew up in the 80s, or for the younger generation trying to imagine Jakarta before the traffic nightmare, this map is a revelation. This was Jakarta at the tail end of the Suharto Orde Baru (New Order) era—a city of 6.5 million people (less than a third of today's population) trying to transform from a sleepy colonial relic into a modern megalopolis.

If you ever find an old Peta Jakarta from the 80s in a dusty bookshop in Blok M or at a flea market in Pasar Santa, buy it. Frame it. Because that Jakarta—the one of rice fields, becaks , and the old Banjir Kanal—is never coming back.

Here is what the Peta Jakarta 1980 tells us about a city that no longer exists. Open the map and look at the southern corridor. Today, Pondok Indah is a forest of luxury high-rises. But in 1980? It was largely sawah (rice paddies) and kebun (plantations). The map shows Kebayoran Baru as the southern frontier—an elite suburb of low-rise villas and wide streets, but beyond that (where Cilandak and Lebak Bulus are now), the map is mostly blank green spaces.

Author’s Note: I have based this post on historical cartographic records and personal anecdotes from long-time residents. If you have a physical copy of this map, I would love to see a photo!

There is a specific magic in looking at old maps. They are more than just directions; they are frozen moments of ambition, memory, and identity. Recently, I got my hands on a scanned copy of a Peta Jakarta from 1980, and frankly, I haven't been able to stop staring at it.