San José, 11 June 2025 (IICA) – Vinicio Ramírez was born 49 years ago in Salinas de Guaranda, in Ecuador’s Bolívar province, a region where, at 3,500 meters above sea level, agricultural producers find creative ways to make the most of the land.
At one point he wanted to become a Catholic priest, but he ultimately followed in his father’s footsteps and went into cheese production. He is also part of the Salinas Group, a conglomerate of cooperatives and social economy foundations that moves millions of dollars in business operations throughout the country—a flow of commerce that benefits small rural producers in the area, who supply their inputs at fair prices for the production of everything from chocolates and wool items to cheeses, jams, cocoa, aromatic herbs, and handicrafts.
For his work in support of small-scale farmers and livestock producers, he was recognized as one of the “Leaders of Rurality of the Americas” by the Inter-American Institute for Cooperation on Agriculture (IICA). Vinicio will receive the “Soul of Rurality” award, created by the specialized agricultural and rural development agency to recognize men and women who leave a mark and make a difference in the rural areas of the continent.
Until recently, he headed the Foundation of Peasant Organizations of Salinas (Funorsal), one of the social economy groups that are part of the Salinas Group. “Now I’m back on the technical side” of cheese development, he explains, since leadership positions “rotate” among members of the organization.
The Salinas Group has a near-mythical history in the area. It all began in the 1970s, when a group of volunteers from the Mato Grosso organization and the Salesian Mission arrived in Salinas de Guaranda from Rome to set up a community center for local farmers. That center ended up turning a long history around by giving peasants—who for decades had depended on a local estate that exploited the area’s salt mines—access to land through a savings and credit program.
Alongside the missionaries came marketing experts and a Swiss cheese-making specialist, who taught local producers to make longer-lasting cheese varieties that could be transported to urban centers without the risk of spoiling.
The process gathered pace, and over time other products were added to the cheeses. A brand was created for all of them—El Salinerito—which has long been present in the group’s stores throughout the country and on the shelves of Ecuador’s main supermarkets.
The key to growth is explained on the conglomerate’s website: these are “small community enterprises that serenely cross the sea of globalization” and “peasant communities that remain organized, defying the winds of individualism.”
In a recent article, the Ecuadorian edition of Forbes magazine described the group, which emerged 50 years ago, as “a mine of entrepreneurs” that, led by El Salinerito, brought in around 13 million dollars in 2023.
In Salinas, Vinicio says, “we talk about putting people first, rather than the economic side, but without forgetting that we also have to do things right.” In addition to the values of community and social economy, he adds, there is a strong focus on “training and education in all areas,” including management, accounting, and business certification. After all, he says proudly, this is a conglomerate that markets nearly 250 products and exports to countries like Italy, the United States, Japan, and the United Kingdom.
In Salinas, collective work in the fields drives a solidarity-based economy that transforms lives at 3,500 meters above sea level.
At 3,500 meters above sea level, in the volcano’s shadow
At the foot of the Chimborazo volcano, these businesses grow thanks to a unique mix of marketing and intuition. For example, cocoa is not grown in the Salinas area, but chocolates are among El Salinerito’s top products. The factory, Vinicio recalls, was born by chance, “in a kitchen, when someone gave us a few cocoa beans” that “led us into the adventure of chocolate.”
Many of the products have similar origin stories—though not the cheeses, which have been produced in the area since the days of the estate that once controlled Salinas’ economy. Ramírez notes that today only one of the cheese plants remains in Salinas itself, while the other forty—also community-based—are spread throughout the province and beyond.
Another important element in expanding the brand, says the cheesemaker from Salinas, is opening stores in major cities “to be closer to our customers.” If a new product is developed in Salinas, it quickly reaches the shelves of the group’s shops. “If we’re making pasta, we sell pasta. If we’re starting to make jícama jam, then we sell jícama jam.”
In the cheese sector, Vinicio says, “we are competing with the country’s big companies.” And best of all, he emphasizes, “they don’t buy from us out of pity for the ‘poor people’ of the solidarity economy—they buy from us because of the quality of our products.” In fact, he stresses, that idea has become a kind of motto: “we sell quality, not charity.”
In addition to the salaries paid to workers in each factory or shop, the profits generated by the cooperative enterprises or foundations are not distributed among members. Instead, they are reinvested, Ramírez explains: fifty percent for recapitalization, twenty-five percent for social development, and the remaining twenty-five percent for infrastructure and technology upgrades.
“Having our own enterprises,” the Ecuadorian producer and leader continues, means that members of each business—that is, the small producers who supply the inputs—“don’t have to go looking for where to sell their raw materials, or wait for someone to buy them at any price.”
For Salinas, he sums up, “cooperativism is the driving force—it gives us life.”
This business model’s growth also faces challenges and dilemmas. “One of the most important issues we have to deal with,” Ramírez admits, “is the market: we need to think not only about the domestic market, but also about seeking international markets, especially for some of our products” that may be more attractive abroad.
While the foundation where he works and other organizations in the group acquire equipment to develop infrastructure—including building roads—buying something like “an automated cheese plant could also mean taking ten families out of the factory and leaving them without work.” That’s why many of El Salinerito’s production facilities still operate in an almost entirely artisanal way.
“The challenge,” says Vinicio, “is not to lose our essence—to preserve it, while still keeping pace with the market.”
Vinicio Ramírez, expert cheesemaker and cooperativism leader, relies on his senses to ensure the quality of each handcrafted product.
Experiential tourism
The reputation built around the Salinas social economy project also acts as a magnet for curious visitors who want to see up close how the model works. “The cooperative and community aspects have made us attractive, and we’re visited by universities, schools, and travelers,” Vinicio says.
This is helped by the fact that the local factories were built with large glass windows that allow people to watch what goes on inside. At first, Ramírez says, this kind of open construction “was a bit expensive for us, but over time it has paid off.”
Now, visitors can come to Salinas on “experiential tourism” packages that include tours of the businesses, seeing milk curdle or chocolate being made, and even taking part in farming tasks, including waking up early for the milking. “All of that is appealing,” says Vinicio, “and I don’t think many businesses have this style, where people can come in and see how things are done.”
A festival is also held regularly, blending the appeal of cheese with local culture—and even featuring a fun llama race. All of these activities, the cheesemaker reports, attract around 50,000 tourists a year, a flow so significant that they had to set up a dedicated visitors’ center.
And in addition to “experiential tourism,” Salinas also welcomes a steady stream of interns—young professionals who have just graduated and come to work at the group’s companies.
Ramírez says this constellation of commercial and social activities can help counter the trend of young people leaving the area. Some do go abroad, especially to the United States, but others stay and even launch their own rural or agroindustrial ventures.
Vinicio himself left for the city of Ambato at age 11 to study, but later returned to Salinas to specialize in cheese production—a craft that led him to train at dairy schools in Italy and Uruguay.
It’s about, he says, “recovering the work of our parents, which is tough, but in the end brings rewards—starting with the chance to live healthy,” in a natural environment. “There are so many advantages to living in the countryside, living off the land,” he continues. “In the city, there may be good opportunities, but here life is healthier, calmer.” And one can “think about personal well-being, not just financial well-being.”
In the countryside, he says, there is an air of solidarity. “If someone is going through a hard time, everyone comes together to support them”—not to mention that at five in the afternoon, when the workday ends, “we all meet in the town square,” in a village of just a thousand residents.
“Is it hard work to lead this kind of life?” Vinicio asks himself. “Yes,” he replies. “There’s a lot to do—sometimes we have to run, but not too much. At least we don’t have to deal with the stress of running to catch a bus.”
More information:
Institutional Communication Division.
comunicacion.institucional@iica.int
