The Monk of Cappadoccia – Part II


This is the second part of the story of Kostas T, a Monk in Cappadoccia.

Part I ended when Elektra, the Alsatian French psychoanalyst had just arrived in Cappadoccia for a week’s visit, to recharge her batteries and, maybe rethink her life.

After laying his eyes on Elektra, Kostas felt for the first time since Iphigenie left him the desire for a woman to reemerge from the depths of his wounded manhood. The cell where he spent most of his time all of a sudden became his prison.

He felt strong carnal desire for Elektra. He had to have her at any cost.

Kostas left the monastery climbing the steep rocks in order to meet his lover.

It was a hot embrace from the very beginning.

The week of Elektra’s holidays was almost over.

Day after day the two lovers would meet and enjoy endless love making.

But she was now due to return to her home and regular life.

Kostas could not believe that he would lose her.

Endless discussions were fruitless.

At the end, Elektra decided to return to her home, and come to Cappadoccia  again after three months, hoping she would convince Kostas to abandon the monastic life and go to Alsace with her.  She told this to Kostas openly and promised to write to him every day.

Kostas became restless after Elektra went back to Alsace.

He would read her letters and write back to her the same day he read them.

In his mind he was ready to return to the ordinary life of people, and he started feeling guilty for not taking this decision earlier, when Elektra was still in Cappadoccia.

He spent endless sleepless nights, dreaming with his eyes open, that he was in Colmar, with Elektra, and the Monastery in Cappadoccia was just a dream.

To his surprise, one day he received a photo showing Elektra in New York.

She had attached a note saying that everything was wonderful, she went to New York for a three day conference,  and that next day she would visit an old friend of hers in Long Island.

On the next day, Elektra joined the legions of Angels, when she was shot when exiting her friends car in the parking lot of a Long Island Restaurant.

The local newspaper reported on the murder:

“Elektra Meyer, 30, of Colmar, France, died shortly after being rushed to a hospital after she was shot in the parking lot at the back of the La Cantina restaurant on Main Street.

Investigators believe Meyer had just gotten out of the silver Mercedes of Joe Bray, who was driving, when at least one gunman ambushed her as she arrived with Joe Bray at the restaurant for the day.

According to the Long Island business registry, Bray was a shareholder in the eatery through a numbered company.

The restaurant has for years been a popular destination for diners looking for a traditional Italian meal in Long Island.

But La Cantina was described, during the 2002 trial of a Manhattan lawyer charged with drug smuggling for the Rizzi clan, as a known hangout for drug traffickers. The lawyer, who was eventually acquitted, was barred from going to the restaurant when he was released on bail.”

Long Island Police collecting evidence in the parking lot

The police found Kostas’ photo and address in Elektra’s purse and notified him immediately.

Kostas could not come to terms with Elektra’s death.

Who was her friend?

Why did the criminals shoot Elektra and not Bray?

He swore to take revenge, no matter what it took for him to do that, and left the monastery for good.

His life was never going to be the same.

Kostas found refuge in a nearby town., where he became known as “the Monk”.

In order to make a living he started working as a barman in a bar.

One night he met Frank R.

Frank was an American, a marine veteran of the Afghan war.

He was tough and reserved, but gradually developed a liking for Kostas.

The two men would often chat and arrived at the point where they considered themselves to be friends.

However, things were not what they appeared to be.

Frank presented himself as a businessman, working on behalf of an American Corporation trading goods between Asia and the US.

In reality, Frank was the person responsible for the movement of opiates from Afghanistan through Turkey to Europe.

Frank preparing for work

He belonged to a criminal organization that controlled more than half of the traffic.

For the reader who founds herself in totally unknown territory, I offer the following as supporting information.

“The general route for smuggling Afghan-produced opiates from Pakistan goes overland from Pakistan’s Balochistan province across the border into Iran, then passes through the northwestern region, which is inhabited by Kurds, and finally into laboratories in Turkey, where the opium is processed.

The shipments from Pakistan may be broken down into smaller shipments once in Iran. Iran is both a transit country and a destination for opium products. Iranian domestic production is believed to be quite low and unable to supply domestic demand. Opiates not intended for the Iranian market transit Iran to Turkey, where the morphine base is processed into heroin. Heroin and hashish are delivered to buyers located in Turkey, who then ship the drugs to the international market, primarily Europe.”

Frank one day was visited by his wife, Ulrike, who was a diplomat with the German Embassy in Ankara.

Frank and Ulrike were a harmonious couple.

They shared most of things in life, among them a double life.

Ulrike was in reality working for the Turkish Military Intelligence Agency, using her diplomatic job as a cover.

Ulrike and two of her toys

Frank had already spoken to Ulrike about his new friend, Kostas, and his tormented life.

Ulrike felt sorry for Kostas and in order to brighten his day, she invited her friend Evita to join her in her trip to Cappadoccia.

Evita was the daughter of the Argentinian Ambassador in Turkey and was spending a few months with her widowed father before going back to Buenos Aires in order to take over the family business.

Frank and Ulrike were wondering how Kostas would respond to the presence of the attractive Latin American.

Would she be able to help him get out of the deep depression and become alive again?

to be continued….


  1. Αθώες είμεθα κύριε πρόεδρε του δικαστηρίου!Ναι μεν είχαμε πάει στο εν λόγω εστιατόριο στα πλάισια της εκπαιδευτικής εκδρομής σύσσωμο το ατελιέ αλλά δεν κουνηθήκαμε από τις θέσεις μας οι κοπέλλες.Ρωτήστε μας κάθε μια ξεχωριστά αν θέλετε.Εξάλλου τι κίνητρο είχαμε,δεν είχαμε να χωρίσουμε τίποτε με την Ηλέκτρα.
    Μπα σε καλό σας,κύριε πρόεδρε,τι το περάσατε, έγκλημα στο Οριάν Εξπρές της Αγκάθα για να έχουμε η καθεμία ένα κίνητρο;jamais!

    • η Ηλεκτρα βρηκε τραγικο τελος…
      της φορεσανε εκατο κουμποτρυπες!
      εχαθηκε στο ανθος της νεοτητος

      δεν μπορω να παρεμβω στο εργο της δικαιοσυνης και να σας απαντησω επι των λοιπων ρουλα,
      θα μιλησω μετα το περας των εργασιων της δικαιοσυνης

  2. Bonjour atelier.
    Περασα χτες βραδυ απο δω και διαβασα το δευτερο μερος της ιστοριας του ιερομοναχου Κωστα. Ομως ειχα ηδη περασει το οριο εκεινο της ημερας που ο νορμαλ κοσμος μπορει να σκεφτει ποσο μαλλον να σχολιασει. Φρεσκια λοιπον πριν αρχισει ακομα η ημερα δηλωνω οτι παραιτουμαι απο καθε σχεδιο κατακτησης του ιερομοναχου και παραχωρω το πεδιον σε οποια υπαρξη του ατελιε επιθυμει να εμπλακει μαζι του. Ο λογος ειμαι οτι ο ανθρωπος ειναι ομ φαταλ. Τωρα του ριξανε και την πικολα αργεντινεζα μπροστα για να δουν πως θα αντιδρασει. Σαν τακτικη αναγνωστρια της στηλης θα διαβασω ολη την ιστορια μεχρι τελους. Και φυσικα αν αλλαξω παλι γνωμη και θελω τον ιερομοναχο θα το δηλωσω ευθαρσως και χωρις φοβο, γιατι ολα εξαρτωνται απο το σεναριο.

    Περαστικος 1. Αυτη η ιστορια μου θυμιζει φωτορομαντζο του τελους της δεκαετιας του ’60
    Περαστικος 2. Γιατι τι αλλαξε απο τοτε;
    Περαστικος 1: Εσυ εγω κι αυτη αλλαξαμε
    Μουα: Μου αρεσουν τα μυστηριοι αλλα η αληθεια ειναι οτι καιρο τωρα χαλβαδιαζω τον Περαστικο 1. Γιατι μπορει να ειναι προκλητικος, δηκτικος, απαξιωτικος, αλλα ειναι παντα εδω. Ιπποτης της μοναξιας μου.
    Και εχω βεβαια και την απορια. Ειναι αληθινη αυτη η ιστορια; Ειναι τοσο καθορισμενη στην πλοκη, ειναι αληθινες οι φωτογραφιες, ειμαι τελειως μπερδεμενη. Ετσι ακομα κι αν ειναι σεναριο, θα παραχωρησω τους ρολους και θα παρακολουθω απο το αγαπημενο μου σημειο στον εξωστη.
    Περιμενοντας το επομενο τευχος, σας φιλω!

    • δεν μου αρεσει αυτη η παραιτηση, ουτε η συγκεκριμενη, ουτε η εννοια και το κοντσεπτ
      παραιτουμαι σημαινει δεν εχω απαιτηση να ζω

      αλλα σεβομαι την επιλογη της δεσποιναριον

      με την τολμη και την ελευθερια της γνωμης, ερμηνευω την παραιτηση ως αλλαγη προσανατολισμου με φερετζε

      δηλαδη το δεσποιναριον χαλβαδιαζει τωρα τον περαστικο 11, οποτε βρηκε ενα ευπεπτο τροπο για να μας αναγγειλει οτι δεν θελει αλλο τον ιερομοναχο ταχατες επειδη ειναι μοιραιος

      βρε δεσποιναριον σε τα μας; σε τα μας;
      μασαει η κατσικα ταραμα;

      δεν ανησυχω για τον ιερομοναχο, αυτουνου οι γυναικες του την πεφτουνε αβερτα, για σενα ανησυχω, που εισαι ευαισθητη και αμα μπλεξεις με την κουφαλα τον περαστικο 11 θα θαλασσωσεις
      ειναι σκετο καραβοσκυλο

      ειλικρινα υμετερος

  3. A θα διαφωνησω, παραιτουμαι δε σημεινει δεν εχω απαιτηση να ζω, μπορει να σημαινει παραιτουμαι για κατι καλυτερο. Τωρα θα μου πητε καλυτερος ειναι ο Περαστικος; Χε χε θα δω και θα σας πω. Παντως πρεπει να ομολογησω οτι ο ιερομοναχος μοιαζει λιγο στον Μελ Γκιμπσον κι αυτο ηταν το πρωτο που με εκανε να στραβομουτσουνιασω, αλλαγη λοιπον πλευσης αλλα οχι με φερετζε. Ποτε εβαλε το δεσποιναριον φερτζε για να βαλει και τωρα. Τα σεβη μου!

    • Καλημερα Δεσποιναριον!
      Μαλλον το πηρα στραβα το ρημα!
      Παμε λοιπον ολοταχως για τα καλυτερα!
      Και χωρις φερετζε!

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