12 People, 2 Bedrooms, 1 Bathroom

Sleeping quarters have been divvied up among the four families, with the newlyweds in the garage and three kids and one mom assigned to the living room.

The kitchen is no sooner cleaned than put to use for the next family’s meal.

But it is the bathroom, the only one in a two-bedroom home of seven adults and five children, that provides the greatest challenge.

“You can imagine, with a dozen people using it all day, what the bathroom would look like if it wasn’t kept clean,” said Constantino Antonio, the informal patriarch of this clan, all of whom come from the same small town in Mexico.

“We rotate. A different family is responsible for cleaning it each day. Some days it has to be cleaned several times because of the children. However, each adult is expected to clean the tub after he uses it. The bathroom is the most important room in the house.”

It is no wonder that Constantino, his wife, Berta, and 5-year-old Nely aspire to a home of their own. This one offered escape three years ago from their old neighborhood in Santa Ana, where rents were affordable but violence commonplace. Drive-by shootings are no longer a worry, but peace has its price. To pay it, they must share, with the others, the cost of rent, food and utilities. And compete for the single bathroom.

“We live piled on top of each other, not because we enjoy living like this but because it is the only way we can have a place to live and food to eat,” said Berta Antonio. It’s not good for so many people to live in such a small house, but how else can anyone live on what we earn?”

They live with Armando and Victoria Antonio (Constantino’s brother and sister-in-law) and their three children, ages 5, 3 and 18 months; the Antonios’ cousin Elia and her 10-year-old son; and newlyweds Gonzalo and Irma. The young couple declined to be interviewed because they are embarrassed by their situation and did not reveal their last names. The others said they are all legal residents of the United States.

Overcrowding has become one of Orange County’s most contentious political issues in recent years, particularly in areas with large numbers of immigrants. Officials in cities such as Santa Ana have tried to limit the number of people living in one dwelling, warning of overburdened local resources such as schools and fire and police protection.

Critics say such ordinances are merely cover for anti-immigrant resentment and efforts to exclude them from neighborhoods.

As many as 20,000 poor families here share apartments or houses, the nonprofit Orange County Community Housing Corp. estimates. Crowding is especially acute in Santa Ana, where a City Council ordinance to limit the number of people living in a housing unit was thrown out by a state appeals court in 1992.

The city has passed other ordinances intended to control “density” by limiting garage sales, prohibiting the storage of inappropriate items on patios and making it illegal to dry laundry in public. “Community preservation investigators” who work for the city act as ordinance enforcers.

Though the outward signs of overcrowding offend many residents, there are few alternatives for the anonymous men and women who clean offices and the homes of the more fortunate, whose calloused hands keep the homeowner’s garden tidy.

Life is made more trying for the families by their low wages. For Constantino Antonio, a missed day’s work, due to illness or inclement weather, can mean choosing between buying lunch for the day or gasoline for the truck he drives to work.

An ill child is all the more reason for a parent to go to work. “We can’t take a sick child to the doctor unless we can afford to pay him,” Armando Antonio said. “And we can’t afford to pay him unless we work.”

Berta Antonio laments, “There are some weeks when we plug a small hole where a small crisis is bubbling only to find a bigger hole that presents us with a bigger challenge. Rare is the week when one of us doesn’t say, ‘Well, maybe we can afford to do that next week.’ ”

Normal household travails are magnified for those living below or near the federal poverty level of $15,150 for a family of four.

With the exception of Irma, who is not employed, all the adults work at low-paying service jobs. Constantino, Armando and Gonzalo work full time as landscapers. Berta Antonio works 30 hours a week cleaning houses, earning $160. Victoria and Elia have part-time jobs as night janitors.

For seven years, Constantino has worked at the same landscaping company, his weekly pay reaching $400 until a new owner earlier this year abruptly slashed his pay to $250.

“That was devastating. The loss of that money means that Nely sometimes has to go without. Berta and I can sacrifice, but it pains me when I have to tell my daughter that I can’t buy her a toy or a school dress because I can’t afford it.”

Weekly earnings for Armando and Gonzalo are $170 each. Victoria and Elia each bring in $90 weekly.

The combined gross weekly income for the six working adults: $930.

Together, they pay $850 per month for rent and $105 for utilities. The families receive occasional donations of food and clothing from nonprofit agencies, but receive no public assistance.

Berta and her husband spend $320 for groceries each month. Armando and Victoria, whose combined gross weekly earnings are $260, spend more than $22 just on milk for their family each week.

Every penny in the household is carefully budgeted. There is no impulse buying.

Recently, Armando faced an agonizing decision. With two days left until payday, he was down to his last $5. His children needed milk, but he also needed to buy gasoline for his battered compact car, which takes him and his wife to work.

“Three of the five children in the house are mine, and I felt bad about asking my brother and the others to give them milk. I am thankful that we can help each other, because I don’t know what I would’ve done had we been alone,” Armando said.

For the moment, their future looks as bleak and coarse as the house’s gray stucco walls. The outlook is the same for the Antonios’ neighbors, who are all Latinos and live in identical dwellings lined up like army barracks on the city’s west side, near Pomona Avenue.

But Constantino and Berta’s optimism has not waned. They attend English classes in the evening to prepare for their citizenship exams and watch “Sesame Street” with Nely to master the language. Berta also learns English from her daughter’s kindergarten homework.

“We’re doing it for Nely’s sake,” Berta said. “We want her to have the opportunities that we didn’t get growing up. If we learn to speak and write English, I think we’ll be able to find better-paying jobs and perhaps one day own our home. That will make life easier for Nely.”

“Nely’s life will be better than ours,” added Constantino, who finished eating dinner as Berta gathered the dishes.

Gonzalo and Irma watched television in the living room, sitting patiently on a worn couch, waiting their turn to use the kitchen. The young newlyweds, in their first year of marriage, live in a postage stamp-size garage attached to the house.

In the Antonios’ household, meals are cooked and eaten in three, sometimes four, shifts. Food is shared but also marked by its owners when put away in the refrigerator or cupboard.

Constantino, Berta and Nely share one of the two bedrooms, while Armando, Victoria and their 18-month-old child sleep in the other. Armando and Victoria’s two other children sleep in bunk beds stacked in the sparsely furnished living room, which is also used as a bedroom by Elia and her young son, who sleep on the couch.

Despite the large number of people who live in the house, it is kept orderly and clean. Chores are clearly defined and shared. For example, each family is expected to clean up after using the kitchen, so the next can cook on a clean stove and eat on a clean table.

Nobody is exempt from household chores.

“Berta won’t let me help her with the cooking, but I wash the dishes after we eat,” Constantino Antonio said. “My brother does the same thing.”

Armando Antonio, who is more reserved than his brother, smiled shyly and comforted his infant daughter.

“After I take Victoria to work, I come home and bathe the children before putting them to bed. Then I have to go pick her up at midnight. I get up at 5 a.m. to get ready for work,” Armando said.

Amazingly, their meager wages do not prevent Constantino, Berta and the others from sending money to their parents in Mexico each month.

“Sometimes it’s as little as $10 or $15 a month. We send them what we can,” said Constantino. “Yes, life for us is hard compared to others who live [in Orange County]. But our families in Mexico are in a greater struggle.”

The families are also able to accept one collect telephone call each month from relatives in Mexico.

The men welcome the rare times when they are asked to work overtime. They travel as far as San Diego on jobs that pay minimum wage or slightly higher.

On other occasions, Berta jumps at the opportunity whenever she is asked to clean a house on Saturday morning and help prepare it for an evening cocktail party. When that happens, Constantino usually accompanies her as an assistant.

“Some ladies are interested in who I am,” Berta said. “I like them because I can talk to them and practice my English. But to others I’m just the hired help.”

Orange County does not promise his family much of a future, Constantino said. He has his eyes set on Atlanta, where a family member has lived for a number of years and where, he believes, there is more chance of finding a better-paying job.

“Here, they expect you to work hard but want you to work for next to nothing. Look at what happened to me. They cut my wages by $150 but not the amount of work I do,” Constantino said. “I’m told that there are a lot of construction jobs in Atlanta and rents are cheap. I understand I can rent a three-bedroom home for about $500. Where can I find something like that in Orange County? Not even in the barrio.”

“I have to do it for Nely. I owe it to her to make her life better. I want my daughter to have a happy childhood. She’ll make plenty of sacrifices when she grows up,” he added.

Nely, an adoring youngster with happy, dark eyes and jet black hair, is fond of pizza and Chuck E Cheese’s restaurant and its kids’ games. Sensitive to the other children’s feelings, Berta, Constantino and Nely always eat special treats such as pizza outside the home, sometimes in their pickup truck.

But the little girl said she does not want to move to Georgia without first realizing the biggest dream of her young life.

“I’ve never been to Disneyland. I want to ride in the tea cups and see Mickey Mouse. Papa said he’s going to take me one day,” she said.

Constantino gives his daughter a wan smile.

“The tickets alone will cost us about $100. That’s almost half of what I earn each week. Where am I going to get that kind of money?” he asked. “Maybe there is something like Disneyland in Atlanta.”