Daylight is more than just illumination; it’s a source of energy, mood, and presence. I felt it deeply each morning in Bhutan, as golden light spilled over the Himalayan peaks, refreshing me after a long Swedish winter. It was a daily reminder of why daylight matters, in buildings and in life.
I’m a PhD candidate at Lund University, working on integrative lighting and energy efficiency in buildings. In March 2025, I had the opportunity to spend two weeks in Bhutan as part of a teaching exchange program. Most of my time was at Jigme Namgyel Engineering College, where I taught daylighting and lighting in buildings to students from architecture and engineering backgrounds. The trip ended with an unforgettable road journey through the mountains to Thimphu, a chance to take in the beautiful scenery and the country’s unique architectural harmony in towns and villages along the way.
The experience was more than just an opportunity to teach and share knowledge. It was also a chance to experience a culture deeply rooted in simplicity, sustainability, and a strong connection to nature. Teaching daylighting to students with different technical backgrounds led to interesting conversations.
In Sweden, the seasonal contrast is strong, and we don’t always have the luxury of abundant daylight, especially during the colder months. As a result, we’ve developed a deep appreciation for daylight. Since we also spend much of our time indoors, we’ve learned to be intentional in how we design our spaces. We aim to bring in as much daylight as possible, knowing how important it is for our health, mood, and general well-being. Daylight may be scarce at times, but that has only made us more aware of its value and more careful in how we design for it.
In Bhutan, it felt different. Daylight is abundant, and people tend to spend more time outdoors. In such a setting, much of what we try to recreate indoors through design is already a natural part of daily life. The urgency we place on indoor daylighting doesn’t seem as pressing — at least for now. But with signs of changing lifestyles and more time spent indoors among the younger generation, there may soon be a greater need to ensure buildings support comfort and well-being through thoughtful daylight and lighting design.
In our class discussions, I noticed that lighting is often treated as something to deal with at the end of a project; simply choosing lamps or fixtures without much thought. But lighting can shape how we feel, how we use a space, and how much energy we use.
For me, this experience was a refreshing reminder that sustainable design always depends on place and context. What works in one country might need a different approach in another. And sometimes, teaching in a new environment helps you see your own work in a new light.
The trip was truly rewarding, in the classroom and beyond. I’m grateful for the opportunity to connect through teaching and to witness the natural and cultural beauty of Bhutan. I returned with fresh perspectives, new connections, and a deep appreciation for the people, the landscape, and the quiet power of natural light.
Text and photo: Marziyeh Taghizadeh, Lund University
Marziyeh teaching at JNEC