A PhD Researcher’s Day: Coffee Cups, Roosters, and Golden Morning Moments
The neighbor’s rooster shows no mercy. Around four in the morning, it declares the start of the day with such determination that I’ve devised several theoretical plans to silence it. Time will tell if theory ever turns into practice. I try to snooze a little longer, but soon the bells of a nearby Hindu temple begin to chime, calling for morning prayers. The day has officially begun—for me, too.
Before the running trails call my name, I need coffee. My colleagues around the world chuckle when I tell them that Finns are the world’s top coffee drinkers—even though coffee grows so far from us. With this PhD project, I’m definitely doing my part—filling my cup, quite literally, with beans. I do wonder what my stomach will think of all this by the time the dissertation is done.
My morning walk takes me through rice fields in a village on the outskirts of Kathmandu. Strolling through the countryside brings a calming rhythm, letting my thoughts wander freely—often the most important ideas spark along these trails. As a bonus, it keeps my neck tension in check. My spouse works here in Nepal, which gave me the opportunity to tag along, even though my own work is rooted in Africa and my research focuses on a completely different continent.
Back home, I brew another cup of coffee and open my laptop. My partner jokes that the day’s productivity can be measured by the number of coffee cups stacked on the table—and he’s not entirely wrong. Today, I’m finalizing an article and polishing the reference list. It’s hard to believe that my first article is almost ready to head off for peer review!
It still surprises me that I’ve made it this far. I’ve never seen myself as a traditional researcher. The quiet solitude of an ivory researchers tower never appealed to me—I’ve always been more of a hands-on person, an adventurer excited by diverse tasks and experiences. Yet here I am, chained to my keyboard, eagerly diving into the depths of research. And honestly, it doesn’t have to be that quiet or lonely after all.
It was my incredible supervisor who guided—or perhaps hooked—me down this path. When the opportunity to pursue a PhD was offered to me on a silver platter, there was no reason to say no. Now, I hope to build a bridge between work life and research, blending decades of professional experience with my curiosity for multicultural phenomena.
Life is shaped by the choices we make, and I could have spent this time doing something entirely different. But right now, this feels right. I wanted to see what more I could learn and how I could apply my skills in a new context. Even though my research topic—intercultural competence within police organizations—is foreign territory to me, I believe that an outsider’s perspective can bring something valuable. I could’ve stuck with familiar topics in healthcare or development work, but diving into something completely new feels wildly exciting.
A new title or a doctoral hat isn’t what drives me—I could live without them—but now that I’ve started, I’m determined to see it through. And honestly, this work is both deeply motivating and addictively engaging. My best writing moments come early in the morning when the world is still asleep. That’s when I can focus before Finland and my team in Africa awaken to their busy days. The data I collected during the summer in Finland now transforms, article by article, in the calm of these Nepalese mornings.
My early-bird nature is my secret weapon in this project, especially since I’m doing my PhD alongside my regular job. I write when the world is quiet and shift to my regular work later in the day. Afterward, I hit the gym with my husband—our first shared hobby! I try to fill weekends with wonderful things: exploring a new culture, enjoying music, wandering around Kathmandu’s narrow streets—and most importantly, computer-free time. I’ve actually been pretty successful at that. The older I get, the more fiercely I protect my own time. Empty space isn’t just for rest—it creates room for thoughts. And there are plenty of those.
In the end, PhD work is often just plain, steady graft. But in these quiet morning hours, coffee cup in hand, there’s something special. Maybe it’s the stillness (rooster aside) or the sense of being part of something bigger—a long chain of knowledge. At least until it’s time to brew the next cup of coffee.
Katja Köykkä, PhD researcher, JATKOT-group