A man living in the same place all his life has no basis for comparison. I would be more convinced that your great-grandfather's village is something special since he experienced elsewhere yet still returned.
I have lived in the same place only once in my life for 7 years and it was an exception because we raised kids, even then we ripped our kids out of school to move them to a different country just for the sake of "experience" and so we wouldn't get bored and comfy (as parents).
In my whole life (close to 50 now) my average years in 1 place was 3-5. I could numerate _all_ the countries I lived in but it would look ridiculous and make boring reading (but it includes some crazy places one seriously wonders what could bring one from A->B).
Only last night I sat on the terrace of my an old friend from childhood. We downed a few Guinness (imported and considered a novelty where we are). It led us to exactly this conversation because he doesn't like anything "fancy" or imported but makes an exception knowing I love it and knowing I'd come he bought it. He is the exact opposite of me and I've always looked up to him because he got the roots (and everything that comes with it discussed here) that I lack. I'd love to have roots and in my most romantic day-dreams wonder what it would be like having never left and still among the same people. (and with my siblings not spread around the globe but in the same town)
He has also often wondered what it would be like living like me, hearing about adventures from Asia, sometimes war zones, or more recently South Eastern Europe, always "trying to make it in a different way", sometimes thriving but quite often literally just surviving.
Despite knowing another quite well, we're only able to look at each others reality in a romanticized / idealized way because we have no idea.
"The grass is always greener ...." most importantly I totally lack the basis for comparison to _his_ life as much as he does to mine, because I've been wired and set up to be me very early in my childhood (and so are my kids who also had no choice but had to endure going through the experience of getting ripped out of school and moved to a new place every couple of years).
I think we are creatures of habit. And braking them is very hard regardless if the habit is to never make any changes, or must shake things up every few years to avoid going nuts.
My parents moved me between countries throughout my childhood. It resulted in lower quality of life, for my whole life. I'm 40 now. Trading your children's good childhood for your own adventure is a selfish choice. I urge you to move to a good place for your children and stay there until they are ready to live independently.
Don't most migrants have nostalgia for their country of origin? Where their roots are, no matter how much of a globetrotter they were. Sure, if the country you grew up in a beleaguered place, you wouldn't think of going back. But I've heard so many migrants say things along lines of: "oh, man, once I'm retired... <fill in blanks>".
"Disclaimer": migrant myself. Not necessarily my dream to go back "once retired". But my wife yearns for her motherland. And so do many.
What I found that is as migrants we have an idealistic nostalgic image of the homeland in our minds but in reality our homeland also changes quite fast so much that one is left with disappointment mostly....
My father grew up on a rural Irish farm, then came to America as a young adult. At age 78, he hatched a plan to move back to his family home, where his brother and a nephew still lived. After three years there, he came back to the US, complaining that it wasn't the Ireland he remembered.
I moved within my country but besides sharing the same language, it mostly feels like living in a different country (for good).
Sometimes I feel a bit of nostalgia, but along life I've learned that you tend to remember the good things and the bad things get opaqued by time.
So when I feel a bit nostalgic I have learned to get a bit rational and think back to when I was there, and to the times I've come back to visit parent and relatives (holidays etc).
I then rationally remember all the reasons why I left and all the reasons why I decided to stay where I am. And nostalgia vanishes, almost immediately.
